The Greatest Strength
by elphabathedelirious32
Summary: A perceived weakness can be one's greatest strength. Combination of musical and book, told through Elphaba's eyes, fills in a few blanks. Then becomes AU.
1. Prologue: Perceived Weakness

**A/N: Here is a new story I've thought up. It kind of combines elements of both the book and the musical, although I think most of the characters will be more musical-ish, especially Fiyero (later, when he comes in) although I'm making Boq a combination of both. It shall be interesting, at any rate. So, for this chapter the only characterization necessary is that Elphaba's father is, in fact, the governor of Munchkinland, and Nessarose is only one year younger, and there is no Shell. **

**Disclaimer: Ti t'nsi enim. (What? Just saying "It isn't mine" is boring). **

**Prologue Part I**

_The day I was born, I'm told, my father refused to touch me, or even to look at me. _

_My mother fainted when she saw me. _

_"It probably wasn't because of you," Nessarose said once. "She'd just had a baby. She was tired." _

_I could read Nessa's nine-year-old thought process clearly, hear her unsaid words: _

_If Mother fainted when she saw Elphaba, because of Elphaba, well, when I was born, she died. That would make it my fault, if it was Elphie's fault she fainted, wouldn't it? No, that can't be right. _

_It was much safer to blame me. I was the scapegoat of the family. I learned the meaning of that word early. _

_Nessarose. Nessa. Nessie. My baby sister. I loved her, you know. It wasn't her fault that our father did, too. In a slightly less dysfunctional family, Nessarose might have been the one blamed for our mother's death. After all, my mother died giving birth to her. _

_But perhaps that's why Father always loved her so- maybe in some twisted way, he believed she was some sort of reincarnation of Mother, or something. _

_On second thought, maybe it was just because she wasn't green. _

_Father told me I was a freak, evil, a demon, a horror. He told me other things, too, though. He told me the Wizard was wonderful, farmers should be able to work Animals for nothing, and many other like things. I discarded all of the above. But there was one thing he told me that I held on to. _

_A perceived weakness can be your greatest strength. It can save your life. It's an emergency getaway, an ever present backup plan. A back door. If someone believes that something can hurt you, when, in reality, it cannot, they will use that against you rather than something that actually will. It's like the tale one of the village women told Nessarose and I, once, about Brer Rabbit begging to be thrown into the Briar Patch, knowing of course that he would be, and he would be absolutely fine. Reverse psychology, in a way. And one day, my perceived weakness saved my life._

**Prologue Part II**

I was ten years old before I discovered that I was not, in fact, allergic to water.

The governor's mansion in Munchkinland overlooks a lake from the back.

One day, when I was ten years old, after a particularly bad bout of screaming from my father, I decided to, well, go jump in a lake.

As a baby, I'd supposedly screamed and kicked and bit when brought near water, and no one was willing to reckon with my fearsome teeth for a bath after I'd bit off the midwife's finger when I was about three minutes old, so it was milk they used, and then oil, when I got older.

But that day, I wasn't trying to clean myself. I was- I don't know. I suppose I was going to prove my father wrong- or I was going to die trying.

"Elphaba!" my father had boomed from downstairs. I appeared at their head.

"What, father?"

I was cautious. I knew that the smallest things were liable to set him off where I was concerned. I was vague, not overly polite- he'd accuse me of kissing up- not overtly defiant- that would earn me a slap- and not subservient, for even at ten, that I couldn't bear.

"Come down here." The voice was cold, dangerous. My heart sinking, stomach rising, I obeyed. Robotically I descended the stairs, filled with dread.

"Did I not ask you to clear the table?" he said.

"I did!" I protested truthfully.

"What is that?"

A single cup had been left on the table. "You can't even do this one thing right," he said in disgust.

Bile and anger rose together, intertwined, in my throat. The bile I held in. The anger, I could not. It swelled up wine-dark in my stomach, burned fire-red in my heart of hearts, and it spread, hot and deep, through my body and into my mouth.

"It's just one cup!" I burst out. "Everyone makes mistakes, Father, even Nessa, even

_you-_" The rush of words was cut of by the cold slap of his hand to my cheek. Cold, then burning. I held my face in shock; surely something so trivial as a _cup_ could not have brought this on?

But everything is backed up in this family; residual anger from a thousand other things held in and compacted until it explodes. Bottled up, if you will.

"You useless little bitch!" he told me, low and cold. I felt my face tense, my features harden, my burning tears dam up and freeze.

"Stupid whore-child, little witch girl, bane of my life," he went on, each word an electric shock jolting my heart with pain. Was he _drunk_? In a twisted way, I hoped so. It would make him less culpable, lessen the sting of his words somewhat. "You're worth nothing," he said, "Jackshit, you hear me? Worth nothing! And you never will be!"

I was only ten, and I still loved him, and this was by far the worst display ever.

"Worse than worthless!" he yelled. "You little freak, you took Melena from me! You made Nessa paralyzed, you-"

I couldn't take it anymore. It'd been drilled into my head since I was a year old that this was true, that I'd killed my mother and ruined my sister. I believed it, heart and soul. I couldn't it in- my tears, my amateur curses ready to be lobbed at him- so I fled.

Through the double doors, feet hit the ground, thud-thud-thud, into the grass, biting softly at my ankles- and then the lake.

Sparkling in the fading sunlight, the violet hills of Rush Margins backlit with an unearthly glow of gold radiating into soft pinks, oranges, and purples, the edges of it nearly blinding me. I kept running –sink or swim, do or die- into the lake, water in my shoes, hitting me ankles, knees, thighs, waist- and then, only then, did I pause. I was standing there, my skirts and boots soaking wet. But I was alive.

Damn it.

My first real curse, genuinely meant, at the failure of a ten-year-old's half-heartfelt suicide attempt.

But I would have died for this.

Water, glorious water! Cold, clear, filling me with its clarity and purity. I reveled in it, I slipped beneath its glowing surface, splashed my face, smoothed it over my hair. It sheathed me like a second skin. I sprinkled drops of it from the tips of my fingers into the sky, filigreed gold in the sunset. My body seemed instinctively to embrace it; I dove beneath and half swam to shore, even though I'd obviously never learned.

I hid my wet clothes, though, and dried my hair quickly. I never told anyone for a very, very long time (seven years, in fact).

Perceived weaknesses can, after all, save your life.


	2. What You Learn in the Library

**A/N: Okay, so here's where the story actually starts, at Shiz, seven years later. It's after Fiyero and Elphaba saved the lion cub, but I'm delaying the whole letter-from-the-Wizard/going-to-the-Emerald City part. Galinda, however, has already decided to change her name to Glinda because she wanted some attention from Fiyero. Also, since it seemed to me like Dr. Dillamond taught history, not life sciences, in the play, that's what Nikidik teaches. **

**Disclaimer: Ce n'est pas a moi. **

It was a very good thing I knew a lot about Ozian history. If not, I might well have failed the course, because all I could do since That Day was stare at _him_, and wonder what he was thinking, for he _was_ thinking. Although not, as it appeared, about history.

"Fiyero," said Dr. Nikidik after class, although a few students, including me, were still gathering their things and could hear every word, "if you don't get yourself a tutor, I'm afraid you'll either have to drop this course and take it again next year, or fail it and do the same. And, of course, I'll have to notify your father, as well as the head of Ozma Towers, and you'll lose your off-campus privileges."

I watched Fiyero nod and slump dejectedly back into his seat. He ran his hands through that sandy hair, shining like straw spun into gold under the- oh, please, Elphaba, get a _grip_.

After Dr. Nikidik left and we were the only two left in the room, I approached him. "I'll do it," I said. He glanced up and smirked at me. I flushed, which generally made my face look an awful bluish color. "Tutor you, I mean," I added quickly. "Not that I think you're stupid, or anything, you just don't seem to care- I mean, not that I'm judging you, or anything, because I'm not, really, I just-"

"Elphaba," he said, standing up and half-laughing at me, "you _can_ breathe between sentences, you know. And I hate to repeat myself, but, really, do you ever shut up?"

I flushed again. I must be fairly indigo by now.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I'll just go-"

"No!" he said quickly, catching hold of my wrist. We both stared at his hand for a moment, out of place yet strangely pretty against the green of my forearm. Slowly, cautiously, he withdrew it, and I immediately wished he'd touch me again.

_Shut up about it,_ I told my heart sternly. _You want to get broken or something? _

"I mean, I'd love for you to tutor me," said Fiyero, interrupting my head's lecture. "If you don't, I'll be grounded for sure."

"And we wouldn't want that," I said, regaining myself, pulling my sarcasm over me like a cloak of protection. "Whatever would Shiz do without its Prince-Charming-Frat-Boy?" He grinned at me, both grateful and reluctant to take the opportunity I'd given him to take up his accustomed role again.

"Yeah," he said. "Shiz."

That night, we met in the library.

"So, you see," I said, "religion and the old creation myths have a definite impact on history, even on politics today-"

"The way Lurlinism is considered royalist," put in Fiyero, "because Ozma was supposedly Lurline's daughter. Right?"

"Exactly." I looked over at him. "You know, you ought to be getting a really high mark in Nikidik's class. If you would just do your assignments-"

"Yes, Miss Little Witch, but that would infringe on my social life, now wouldn't it?"

"Don't call me that," I said. It came out sharper than I'd intended.

"Why not? It's no secret that you've got special powers," pointed out Fiyero. "Remember that day with the Lion cub?"

"My father called me that," I said, turning away. _Among other things_.

"Oh, I see. His little pet name no one else is allowed to use?"

"Not quite," I muttered. I looked back at him, fixing his blue eyes in my gaze. "My father hates me," I told him.

"What for?" he asked, sounding a bit surprised.

"For being born."

His face softened as he dropped his arrogant frat boy act.

"My old man's not too fond of me, either," he said. "Nothing I do's good enough, you know? So I guess I stopped trying. It hurts less, you know, if you've screwed up on purpose, rather than tried as hard as you could and still not measured up."

I looked at him again, with new respect and understanding.

"Yes," I said. "I really do understand. I used to feel the same way. The only difference is, my father never expected anything other than failure from me. So I try to prove him wrong. I do that too much. Once, I could have drowned trying to prove to him that I was normal." Then, realizing what I had given away, I covered my mouth.

"What?" asked Fiyero, staring at me. "But I thought- I mean, everyone says-"

"That I can't touch water?" He nodded. I laughed lightly. "That's my own doing, that rumor," I said.

"But-why?" he asked.

"My father taught me many things," I began slowly. "He taught me that I was a worthless little witch whore-child, in his words, that I killed my mother, indirectly, and that it was my fault Nessarose can't walk.

"He also taught me to obey my 'superiors' without question, and that Animals ought to be the slaves of Munchkinlander farmers, which I ignored."

"I'll say," interrupted Fiyero.

"But he did teach me one thing I listened to," I went on. "He taught me that if you have a 'perceived weakness'- something that can't really hurt you, but which others believe can- it can save your life, for your enemies will use that against you in place of something that can actually harm you."

"And thus," said Fiyero, "your public avoidance of water."

"Precisely," I replied.

"You're- fascinating, Elphaba," he murmured.

And then-

then we were kissing, a fire like the sunsets of Munchkinland burning through my heart, pulling it up into my throat and my mouth and my lips, intertwining it with Fiyero's heart, binding us, and I wanted to stay this way forever-

But then we heard a familiar voice, calling too loudly from behind a bookshelf-

"Elphie! Elllllphie! Are you in here?" Galinda, now rechristened Glinda in some silly bid for attention, although superficially in homage to Dr. Dillamond.

We broke apart. There was an unbearably loud silence for a moment, as I found my voice again. "Here, Glinda," I managed, still not taking my eyes from Fiyero, nor he his from me, as if in our heads we were still kissing.

"Oh, _hello_, Fiyero, whatever are you doing here?" asked Glinda, emerging from between two bookshelves. The spell hanging in the air broke into pieces and fell to the floor, at least that was the imagery I imagined.

"Nikidik told me I needed a tutor, or I'd flunk out and lose off-campus privileges, plus he'd tell my dad, and _that _would socially cripple me for the next eon," said Fiyero, slipping easily back into his superficial persona.

"Oh, so you're studying history?" asked Glinda.

"Yes," I answered. It wasn't a lie, we were studying history- each other's.

"Bor-ing!" pronounced Glinda, tossing her golden curls.

"A necessary evil," said Fiyero.

"Is there such a thing?" I asked.

"Oh, Elphie, stop it, you're always off on some philosophical rant or other," sang out Glinda. "Well, I was going to ask you both to come out dancing again, but-"

"Can't, Glinda darling," drawled Fiyero. Then, in his normal voice- "If I don't pass the next exam, I'll be locked away until I expire, for my father is far too mean to die."

"Oh, dear! Well, we can't have that," agreed Glinda. "I'll just go with Shenny and Pfan-pfan," she said, muddling up her friends' names. Or not. "Those are their nicknames, aren't they dear?" she asked, swishing her way to the edge of the private alcove. "Well, ta-ta, Fi-fi, Elphie, dears!" She exited.

Fiyero looked pained.

"Fi-fi?" I asked, unable to control my laughter.

"It's her latest thing," he told me, "Nicknames for everyone."

"Thank the stars she hasn't thought up anything worse than Elphie for me," I said.

"I suppose you could be Phie-phie," he replied, grinning.

"Well, that wouldn't be at all confusing."

"No," said Fiyero, "not at all." We paused a moment, in awkward silence.

"So," said Fiyero after a small eternity, "what is it you were saying about your mother, and Nessarose?" I looked at him. His eyes were soft, his act gone. He really wanted to know, because he cared. Moreso than Glinda, and I'd told her.

I took a deep breath and pretended to study my papers as I spoke.

"Well," I said, "It's my fault about them both. When my mother was pregnant for the second time, with Nessa- my fater didn't want the new baby to come green, and so he had Mother chew milkflowers incessantly, to blanch the skin or something. But I guess that wasn't all they did, because Nessa was born early- very early, with her tiny legs- too small, and all twisted and bent up. And my mother died. She never even got to hold Nessarose," I finished. There were tears in my eyes, and I could hear them clogging my voice. My stomach felt hollow and sick, the way it did whenever I talked about this.

"Elphaba," said Fiyero quietly, "it's not your fault."

"Yes, it is!" I insisted tearfully. "You don't know-"

"Yes, I do." He looked down. "My mother died giving birth to me." I felt my heart wrench for him. "Oh, Fiyero," I whispered, daring to send out a hand to touch his arm, like a green butterfly alighting. He wasn't finished, though.

"When I was old enough to understand it, I thought it was my fault. My dad never said anything one way or the other- he was never much for emotion, still isn't- but my nanny assured me that it was no one's fault." He looked back at me, tears sparkling in his sapphire eyes. "And if anyone _is_ at fault in your mother's death, it's your dad, not you," Fiyero told me fiercely. "You didn't make her take those milkflowers, did you?"

"No," I said slowly, the realization blooming inside me like a flower, lifting a huge weight from my shoulders. Then, very simply, I said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Elphaba Thropp," he told me, "always."


	3. Pedestals, Parties, and Philosophy

**A/N: Another update, yes, with Fiyero and Elphaba in the library again. **

**Disclaimer: T'ain't mine. **

As we studied together over the next weeks, our meetings became less tutoring sessions than they were discussions or debates. I found, a bit unexpectedly, that Fiyero was a good match for me. I mean, in debate. Of course. Obviously. Right.

"But what makes Kumbricia evil?" I was saying one Friday afternoon. "I mean, Lurlina's the one who cursed the sun and the moon, isn't she? But then, according to the legends, that predates evil's existence. But I would consider that to be evil, wouldn't you? Unless she was cursing them because _they _were evil, in which case-"

"Evil still existed before the Kumbric Witch, and the floods and the battle and whatnot," said Fiyero. "Yes, I see what you're saying."

"Kumbricia can't be the original source of evil, then," I went on, "and furthermore, I don't see why she's supposedly evil at all. But that's beside the point. Another theory has it that evil is the vacuum left by Lurline, after she departed to parts unknown, but-"

"But the original 'evil' of either Lurline or the sun and moon still came before," said Fiyero.

"Precisely!" I answered. "I don't understand the contradiction here, nor why no one else has ever questioned it, to my knowledge."

"It's a matter of a pedestal," said Fiyero cryptically, "and of predisposal to judge things a certain way." I looked at him oddly. "You see," continued Fiyero, "Lurline's been put up on this pedestal by the people of Oz. She's good, she's perfect, she's the lovely golden-haired fairy queen, blah blah blah. And then there's the Kumbric Witch. Well, she's the opposite number. I mean, there's the connotations of the word 'witch,' for one, and then there's the actions attributed to her. They've made her the scapegoat for the presence of evil."

"But what I don't understand," I replied, "is, if it was really Lurline who introduced evil to the world by cursing the sun and the moon, why she would have been placed on a pedestal in the first place."

"Several reasons, I think," said Fiyero. "One being that the surface good she's done at least appears to outweigh the bad, so much so that most people don't even notice the evil in that action. And the other reason," he went on, "is that most people like clearly defined boundaries, whatever they may say. Black and white. Good and evil. No middle ground or mitigating circumstances."

"I agree," I said. "Psychologically, it probably has something to do with wanting to return to childhood, although I can't imagine why anyone would want to do that."

"Innocence," said Fiyero, "being cared for. Lack of responsibility."

"Not for me," I answered. "The only thing I was considered innocent of was the drought in Munchkinland, and if they'd found a way to pin that on me, I'm sure my father would have. I was never cared for, I cared for Nessarose. And I was responsible, not only for what I did but usually for what everyone else did too."

"Oh, Elphaba," said Fiyero. Then, to break the awkwardness that had suddenly descended upon us, he continued:

"I'm orchestrating a party tonight," he said, "At the Ozdust. You ought to come."

I flushed indigo with mingled pleasure and embarrassment.

"No, I shouldn't," I said. "Remember the last time?"

"Well, then, don't dance," suggested Fiyero, "Or better yet, do. With a partner. That way you can't wave your arms around like that. Though I thought it was kind of pretty."

"Really?" I asked breathlessly.

"Like your handwriting, you know," he said. I looked up and realized he too was blushing. "Delicate and spidery, lyrical almost." He paused. "Graceful."

"I'm not graceful," I replied. "I can trip over myself sitting down."

"Like you did yesterday? And nearly brought down that bookshelf and caused a domino effect, decimating the entirety of the Shiz library?" he teased as I flushed even darker.

"Yes, kind of like that," I answered.

"Well, it doesn't matter. My friends are equally as clumsy once they've spiked their drinks," he added, "and occasionally everyone else's."

"You mean the punch was-"

"More than likely."

"That explains Glinda."

"Nothing, my dear Miss Elphaba, can even _begin_ to explain the incomparable Miss Glinda," he said.

"Very true," I laughed.

"So you'll come?"

"I suppose so."

"Great, then, I'll see you at seven!" he called. He jumped up, gathered his books, and began to dance out of the library, nearly knocking over the intimidating librarian. I laughed out loud and he turned and saluted me before leaping out the door.


	4. Brains vs Heart and Spiked Punch

**A/N: I'm so sorry about all of the delays. School sucks. I ought to be writing my essay instead of this, but at this point I don't care. Really, I ought to be sleeping, but I'm too tired to sleep. **

**Disclaimer: It isn't mine. Do you think I'd have time to come up with something like _Wicked _with school having taken over my life? **

This was going to be just about impossible. I had to make myself look pretty- _which is not the impossible part, Elphaba. Why can't your inner voice ever shut up, either?_- without letting Glinda catch wind of the idea.

There was to be no pink tonight.

Besides, for all that I liked Glinda- she, after all, was my best (and only) friend- I didn't think I could bear her giddiness and mooning over Fiyero, when within my own heart I was doing the same, and every one of her words was a knife to that precious and contradictory organ.

I was rifling through my and Glinda's closet. Big bright ploofy thing, dark flat ugly thing, and so on, and so forth.

"Elphie!" squealed Glinda from behind me, making me jump and drop the dress I was holding.

"Elphie, what are you looking for?"

Oh, well. I supposed if she was going to pester me about what I was doing until she got a satisfactory answer, I might as well tell her the truth right off and save us both some time. Well, not the _whole _truth, obviously. Not what I felt about Fiyero.

"Looking for a dress," I said. "I have to go to a party tonight." _Have to go_. It was the truth. I had to go. Fiyero had asked me. My heart was disobeying my head, and it had firmly promised to immediately stop working and make me drop dead if I stayed at home. But to Glinda, I knew, it would sound like something the normal Elphaba- the one who was too aloof and removed to be in love, the one who didn't care what the hell her dress looked like or anything, the one who hated parties (well, I still hated parties. My love for Fiyero just outweighed the party-hatred)- would say. She _had _to go. She was being forced.

"Oh, how wonderful!" exclaimed Glinda, clapping her hands. "Here, did you see…no…this one!" she reached in among the hoopskirts and feathers to pull something out. I braced myself for a big, fluffy, pink thing, but Glinda had pulled out a simple, elegant, black dress with almost invisible black beading that shimmered beautifully…but only in the right light.

"Glinda…it's…amazing," I gasped.

"Yep," responded my blonde roommate, sounding pleased with herself. "This was, you know, too small for me. And also too long. Guess I was daydreaming while I was shopping. So, it should fit you. It'll look better on you anyway…it's like too dark for me."

I smiled at her awkward explanation, acknowledging silently that I knew she had gotten the dress for me. Glinda knew her dress size- and mine.

"Thank you," I said. She waved me off.

"Hurry up and put it on, Elphie, I'll do your hair for you."

Glinda and I met up with Nessarose, Fiyero, and Boq, and the five of us took a coach to the Ozdust Ballroom.

When Boq was harassing Glinda (apparently some of Fiyero's crowd _had _spiked the punch, if by 'spiked' one means 'dumped two entire bottles of liquor into the punch,' and Nessarose had not taken to it and thus was throwing up in the bathroom and, also in a snit of some sort, was refusing my assistance), Fiyero took me by the hand and started dancing sloppily with me. For a few minutes, I thought he was merely a bad dancer (slowdancing, especially where Glinda is concerned, does not tend to qualify as actual _dancing_, so it wasn't as if I'd had an opportunity to observe before). But I quickly realized he was drunk.

"Elthabla," he slurred, "I love you-"

I glanced around, panicked, searching for Glinda.

"Fiyero," I tried calmly. Anything he said now wasn't anything I wanted to hear. It could be lies, alcohol talking, or, worse, it could be true, which could, as much as I wanted it to be true, destroy the fragile illusion of common friendship between Fiyero and I, and Glinda and I, as well. Not that Glinda's and my friendship was a fragile illusion, because it wasn't. But the destruction of the fragile illusion that Fiyero and I were only friends would destroy my friendship with Glinda as well, in a far worse way (meaning that she'd probably knife me to death in my sleep). "Fiyero, no-"

"Yeth! I do!" he cried. "I don't love Gthinda, I don't-"

"Fiyero, please, don't do this here-"

I _had _to do something, and quickly, before we all got tossed out and Fiyero got reported to Morrible. I didn't want him to get expelled- _yeah, because you don't want him to leave and you don't know what you'd do if you did_-

so I pulled him outside. In the doorway, he sloppily tried to kiss me. But by now, I was _pissed. _

"Fiyero, get _off_. Come on now."

I yanked him down a street to a coffee shop as he drunkenly tried to sing a love ballad to me-_if only he were sober, if only it were true_- and I shoved him into a booth and ordered him a cup of espresso.

"A cup?" the clerk asked me doubtfully. "Don't you mean a shot?"

"No, I mean a cup." I glared at him forcefully.

"All right, all right. Don't turn yourself into guacamole." He laughed at his own joke.

"You think low comments on people's skin color, which by the way don't even border on clever, are _funny_?" I growled. I was so through being even _civil_ with this idiot.

"No," he gulped. "Sorry."

"Good," I said. I grabbed the espresso from him and took it back to Fiyero.

"Drink this."

He sipped it and made a face.

"What the hell is this?"

"Pure espresso. Now drink it. _All _of it." I glared as he took another reluctant sip. "Then, once you're coherent, we're going to have a serious talk."


	5. Fae and Yero

**A/N: I know this is kinda short, but the quick update plus the math homework laying on my desk awaiting completion (not to mention, um, starting) mean too darn bad.**

**Disclaimer: It's all GM's, people. **

We didn't really get to talk that night. I mean, I tried, but Fiyero's not always the easiest person to talk to even when sober. Drunken, his conversation pretty much consisted of constantly repeating, 'But I love you,' to anything I said (and I do mean anything). Finally, I gave up and commandeered a coach-and-four to take us back to the university. He fell asleep on the ride there. When we reached Ozma Towers, I woke him up quickly and made sure at least managed to make it inside before running off to Crage Hall Dormitory myself.

The next morning, I was walking across campus to my second lecture of the day, enjoying the newly warming air and the feel of the sun on my head, when a hand clamped over my mouth and an arm grabbed me from behind. Instinctively, I kicked out behind me, but then I recognized the hand on my mouth. _Fiyero, damn him, what the _hell _does he think he's doing? _I bit down- not enough to hurt, though- on his hand.

"Sweet Lurline! Shit, Elphaba, you _bit _me! What'd you do that for?" he asked, letting go of my mouth but not my waist. I twisted around in his grip to face him.

"Don't cover my mouth if you don't want to get bitten," I answered calmly. "I don't take kindly to people trying to silence me."

"And all Oz best remember it," said Fiyero, laughing.

"What in Kumbricia's name do you want, Fiyero? You're going to make me late for Political Science."

"You're not going to be late, because you're not going."

"Don't be an ass, Fiyero. Of course I'm going. Who do you think I am, you? I don't cut class."

"You're not going. I'm kidnapping you, as thanks for last night."

"That's your thanks? Remind me never to save your life. Unnamed God only knows what you'd do to me then."

"Probably marry you."

"A fate worse than death. Just try not to get in to mortal peril within earshot of me, all right?"

He saluted me.

"I _am _going to Poli Sci, though." I said firmly.

"No, you're not," said Fiyero seriously. "I _will_ carry you, if I have to. But besides being embarrassing and uncomfortable for you, as I imagine you rather prefer to be in control of where you're moving, it will also more than likely draw Morrible out here, and we wouldn't want that. She might magick us into frogs or something. So…" he grabbed me around the waist again and began pulling me along with him, "Come on."

"Where are we?" I asked about an hour later. "Take this blindfold off of me, _now_, Fiyero, or I'll-"

"Relax, Elphaba. We're here." He gently pulled the blindfold off and I stared in amazement.

"Sanctified excrement."

"That has got to be the weirdest way of putting 'holy shit' ever invented." I would have glared at him, but I was too busy taking in our surroundings. A beautiful pine forest lay, fresh and dark green, to one side. A small wooden building sat a few hundred yards from where we stood. A glowing blue lake lay next to it, the sun's golden rays plumbing its indigo depths.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Several miles north of Shiz. Just think, Elphaba- a few miles away from the city, there's nothing but forest. It's almost completely uninhabited- except for places like these."

"Which are?"

"Riding stables. Have you ever been on a horse before?"

I stared at him in disbelief, a grin slowly finding purchase on my face.

"_Have _I ever been on a horse before? Little prince, you are going to look like _such _a city boy next to me. I practically _lived _on my horse back home."

"Oh yeah?"

"It was a way out of my house, wasn't it?"

He winced.

"Yeah."

A slightly awkward silence descended, rife with the things we'd discussed in the library that first day- our mothers, our fathers- and also, our kiss. Desperately, I searched for a way to end the silence, and finally found a genuine one.

"There damned well better not be any Horses in that barn, city-prince."

"There aren't, I swear. I'm not _that _stupid. And can I please have a new nickname?"

"If you insist." I thought a moment, then said in Glinda's voice, "Yero, my hero!"

"Yero," he said seriously, "Not bad. Now come, get a horse, and I'll give you a nickname."

He paused. "What's your family call you?"

"Bitch."

"I meant Nessa."

"Fabala, sometimes I guess. Glinda calls me Elphie. But you can't."

"Fabala…Elphie…Elphaba…" he waved his hands as though my name were a spell, then thrust them forth and said the coming word like a catalyst- "Fae!"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Fine."

"Race you to the barn, Fae-Fae!"

"Call me that again, and I'm resurrecting the 'city-prince' one!"

"Fine! You're losing!"

"Yeah, right!"


	6. Teasing A Witch

**A/N: Sorry, it's been a while. But hey, quite a few of you guys owe me updates (coughs) please? Anyway, I BETTER get some reviews, or else not only am I borrowing Veronika Green's wicker chair, but I'm pulling out all the stops and heading to Wicked-land to get the flying monkeys. Heh heh heh. And extra cookies to whoever finds the rather hidden Star Wars reference. One extra cookie to whoever finds the Wicked lyric reference, cause that one's easy.**

**Disclaimer: None of it's mine, not a whit. Sadly. **

We rode on that trail for hours; over hills and through valleys, across stream after stream, past views of beautiful mountains and through endless groves of trees. We rode side by side and spoke the entire time.

"Do you ever hate your sister?" asked Fiyero.

"No, almost never," I answered. He looked at me, bading me to continue. "Sometimes, late at night, when I'm not actually _with _her, when the concept of Nessarose as the actual person she is, is dimmed, I do, but only for a moment," I went on, "Nessarose is so hard to hate, you see. She's needier than I am, and not just physically, not just because of her wheelchair. She's so- so innocent, and impressionable still- almost childlike- not in intelligence, I mean, but- emotionally, sometimes. And she's just not _mean_. She doesn't cultivate Father's attention, not on purpose, and she _never _throws it in my face, even when we fight. It's not her fault he loves her better. She's just the sweetest person, Fiyero. She's got no deception in her at all, and she's so trusting, she expects that everyone else will be the same way. That's why I worry about her- what's going to happen when she realizes that isn't true?"

Fiyero smiled lightly at me.

"You," he said, "are a very clearheaded person, Elphaba Thropp."

"Um…thanks?"

"I mean," he clarified, "like with Nessarose. You put blame where blame is due, on your father, not on Nessarose for receiving his attention. Not a lot of people can do that- see past the tangle of emotions, be fair with things that cut so close. Your father can't, Elphaba; that's why he blames you for Nessa and your mother. You," he said slowly, fixing me with those azure eyes like a pin fixes a butterfly to corkboard, "you are a stronger person than your father."

I felt myself flush, ducked my head.

"And you," I said back, looking up, into his eyes again, "are much deeper than you like to think."

His turn to flush, a normal color though; his turn to hide his face.

"Well," he said eventually.

"Well," I answered back.

"Oh- I brought a picnic," he added quickly.

"Should we stop now?" Just as the question fell from my lips, the horses trotted into a magnificent clearing. Waterfalls tumbled from glowing green hills, a golden emerald meadow lay at their feet.

"Apparently so," said Fiyero.

…

The picnic Fiyero had brought was amazing; the setting in which we ate it even moreso.

"All my favorite foods are here," I said, surveying it in amazement. "How did you know what they were- even that I like to eat orange peppers like apples, biting into them?"

"I have my ways," he said, smiling mysteriously, "and my surprises-"

And with just that much warning, he sent me flying with a shove into the lake pooling at the bottom of the waterfalls.

Due to the close, communal atmosphere of dormitory life- the antithesis of privacy- this was the first chance in a long while I'd had to touch water; I'd been using oil, as before.

But the loveliness of that knowledge and of the liquid sunlight on my skin didn't alleviate my desire for revenge.

"Why-why-why," I sputtered as Fiyero laughed, sprawled on his back, secure in the knowledge that I was too small to pull him in.

His laughter abruptly ended, however, when he found himself levitating several feet off the ground. At least Morrible would be pleased I'd been practicing.

"Elphaba!" he yelled in shock. "What're you-"

"If you're going to make me cut school, the least you could do would be to let me practice my lessons!" I replied, unceremoniously dropping him in the water.

Apparently, I needed a bit more practice with my levitation, seeing as how he landed on top of me (then again, maybe magic was Freudian, how should I know?)

Tangled together in the shining water, we tumbled down an underwater slope and when at last we emerged, we found ourselves behind the waterfall.

We also found ourselves kissing.

It was a magical moment; and not just figuratively- loose sparks of magic energy caught in the air, the very water stopped and froze in its descent, defying gravity by the force of love and will combined.

It was beautiful, and everlasting.

It was terrible, and all too short.

A study in contrasts, paradox, oxymoron, conundrum-

-Fiyero and I.


	7. Dream or Nightmare?

**A/N: Oh, there's big doings afoot in this chapter (points for the A/N reference)**

**Cookies go to Kennedy Leigh Morgan (the website won't let me message you, I shall once it decides to WORK again) for getting both references last time. And there's a dream sequence and a Fiyero-thought-sequence in this chapter (a little POV experimentation on my part, but I thought it was kind of a better way to do that scene). I realize some things actually sound a bit awkward, this is because I kept trying to write in present tense and then had to switch it back…yeah. **

**Disclaimer: S'ti ton enim. **

_Two year olds aren't supposed to remember things. Then again, people aren't supposed to be green, either. _

_I remember things in fragments, in flashes- _

_There is Mama, singing to me what she cannot say, and I understand. I sing back, in my garbled child's nonsense, but the melody has meaning. _

_There is panic, there is yelling, Father yelling, at a kitchen maid, to get a midwife. I don't know what it means. Hiding in a dark kitchen corner, I am afraid; I haven't seen my mother since I woke up and I can't find her. _

_There is more yelling, more panic, a woman screaming. There am I, running up stairs and through halls, following the sounds of my mother's cries. _

_Into one of the extra bedrooms. Red and white, red blood on white sheets, white nightdress, too-white skin. People are not supposed to be green. People are not supposed to be as pale as ghosts, either. _

_But my mother is, and so is the baby lying in a white crib. She is as white as her sheets, her face is not flushed, her eyes are closed and she is not crying, the only thing not white and still about her is her brown hair. Her legs look like a baby bird's- too small, too twisted, wrong. _

_My mother, lying on the bed. Her red hair spread out, fanning across the pillow, a warm lovely summer color out of place in this room of dark blood and white sheets. Her face is still- like she is one of the dolls in my room, the porcelain ones I am not allowed to touch. She is not dead, not yet, though. She is still breathing. _

_I run up to her side, maybe she is asleep. Maybe having a baby gives you bad dreams. _

"_Mama?" I say, too loud. The noise of my thin child's voice is wrong; just as I am wrong in here. This is a place of still whiteness, an alive green girl has no place in it. _

"_Mama?" I say, louder, frightened now. She opens her eyes, barely; green-blue and vivid, they stare out at me. _

"_Fey," she says (i remember now, i have heard the name before and that is where) she calls me this, and only she. _

"_Mama okay?" I ask her, innocently, ignorantly, blissfully. _

"_I love you, Fey-girl," she tells me, quietly (weakly, I know now). "Go-go, your father is coming, you can't be here, you can't see this-" her words are coming in a rush, I don't understand what she means, why she is talking like this- _

"_Mama?" I say again, and begin to cry, confused. _

"_Elphaba, go!" she tells me, "go, go for Mommy." _

"_I love you," I tell her, mispronouncing the words, and then I hug her- her groan is of pain, and slightly frightening, as is the prospect of my father- so I scamper then, lightly, with the agility and energy of the youthful and unknowing, and I see my mother for the last time._

_Down the hall and in my room, I rock my baby doll, the cloth one I _am _allowed to touch, and pretend that she is my new sister. But then, then I hear another scream, my mother's scream, of pain and crimson and finally black darkness- _

_-words slip from somewhere deep inside of me and through my clumsy toddler's mouth- _

"_El-e-ka-nah-men-" _

_But the scream continues, horrifying, growing to a pitch too high, a volume too loud-_

_-stop chanting strange words, drop doll, hands over ears, on the floor, my own screams joining in- _

I woke up screaming the same scream as in the dream. Glinda sat up in bed across the room from me. In a moment of still-asleep confusion, she swiveled her blonde head, panicking, before realizing it was only me.

"Elphie," she said, quietly, "did you have the dream again?"

I nodded, silently. I didn't know if it was real. I never did. Was it a memory? A false one? Just a dream? What?

"You never tell me what it's about," Glinda remarked petulantly, pouting, obviously waiting for me to tell her.

I knew the pout for the act it was, knew she really cared, and that this was just her way.

"It's about my mother," I said, "and the day she died."

I recounted the dream; details grew sharper in my head as I voiced them.

Like most people who hear even the barest bones of the Thropp family saga, Glinda was held spellbound; unlike them, it is not because of the enjoyment they get out of gossip, but because the dream is so genuinely horrifying and wonderful at once.

I never heard my mother say 'I love you,' before, not even in my completely fictional dreams.

"It's good, Elphie," Glinda said, "good that you know she loved you…" she was already drifting back to sleep.

She cared, but we were in college, and it _was _two thirty in the morning.

I turned out the lamp beside my bed, turned over, and went back to sleep myself.

…

_Fiyero:_

_The next time I see her, she is running down the hall, black skirts flying at her knees, hair making a tail behind her, spectacles about to tumble off of her lovely nose. _

_She tries to stop without hitting me, but it's far too late- she stumbles and drops her books, and I catch her. _

"_Do you have a death wish?" I ask. She looks at where I'm touching her and smirks. _

"_Do you?" she asks. I look, too, flush, and pull my hands away. She falls forward, again, in surprise, and I catch her (this time around the waist) and kiss her. _

…

Glinda saw us, I know she did. Why else would she have been acting so oddly? Right after Fiyero kissed me in the hallway, I went back to our room to put away my books before going to dinner, and I found her there, sprawled on her bed, obviously crying.

"Glinda?" I asked, trying not to panic. _She's a drama queen_, I tell myself, _there are a million things she might be crying about_.

But these are vain hopes, they flutter through my fingers and out the dormitory window.

"Glinda, what is it?" I asked, sitting on the bed beside her.

"No-nothing," she sobbed. "After all, he never said- I mean, I have no reason to-"

_Oh, God…_ I felt like I was going to be sick. She wasn't even _mad_! What girl wouldn't be mad…

Well, she _was _right. They were only engaged in her fantasies, after all.

But they were fantasies I knew about, and that made me culpable.

"Oh, Glinda, I'm so sorry," I tell her. "We never meant to…just…in the library, we got to talking, about our families…and we kissed…it was an accident…but then, at that party, he got drunk, and I dragged him out and got him espresso and got him to the dorms without being caught by Morrible, so the yesterday, he took me riding horses, to thank me, and we fell into a lake, and then we kissed again- and then-"

Glinda looked at me with her periwinkle eyes, storm clouds shading them. She said nothing. An uneasy feeling began developing in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't tell whether or not Glinda was angry at me, and Glinda isn't usually a difficult person to read; she broadcasts her emotions like a lighthouse beacon.

"Come on, Elphaba," she said, stiffly, worryingly, "let's go down to dinner."

She was frightening me, really badly. I'd have rather been slapped.


	8. Dining Hall

**A/N: It's been awhile, but I'm back, and my room is green (Kennedy Leigh Morgan- I've adjusted). School is almost done, I spent two full class periods listening to music today (Theatre Arts- we're doing musicals, and we listened to _Les Miserables _and _Rent_ all class, and second period was Choral Assembly. Sadly, no _Wicked_.) I also found my sixth grade class trip pictures from…well, only three years and one month ago, but it feels like longer! One has a picture of the sign they have that says 'Enchanted Forest,' and I'm hanging it my room. And I realize this is getting random. **

**Down to the important stuff: More slices of Fiyero POV in this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: It's not mine, it's the Gregmeister's. **

_Fiyero:_

_Waiting in the dining hall for Elphaba, who was a long time coming, it seemed, I compiled a list of things I knew about her. _

_She didn't like being touched in public. She sometimes didn't like being touched at all. I guessed it had to do with her not being used to it, since I doubted her father had been a hugging kind of person._

_She'd told me once that the main affections of her early years had been from animals. Not Animals, just regular old animals, but I supposed maybe that's where her fervent defense of the rights of the former had come from. _

_She loved her sister more than most things and wanted to protect her from the world_

_She was an endless font of knowledge, her mind retaining almost all of the innumerable things she read in incredible detail_

_She could sing amazingly, but she wouldn't do it in front of anyone, even me- I'd only heard her when I was walking outside her window, once, and another time outside when I'd come up behind her. _

_Her mind always needed to be occupied with something- reading, imagining, problem-solving_

_Her sarcasm was a defense mechanism- most of the time. So was her standoffishness- she didn't know how to be friendly sometimes, so she pretended she didn't want to. Except for the times when she _really _didn't want to. _

_She was beautiful, and I was in love with her. _

Elphaba: Glinda came with me to the dining hall, but she sat down with Pfannee, Shen-Shen, etcetera, and she didn't say one word to me the entire time. I was beginning to be really worried that this whole mess would destroy the small friendship we'd begun to build- yet I loved Fiyero far too much to give him up. I sat down across from him.

"Glinda saw us," I said. He looked at me as though he were studying me for a moment, then shook his head and came back to reality.

"So what?" he asked. Honestly, boys can be so thick sometimes. –_this coming from Miss Social Expert, of course! Ha. Socialism, yes, social _life_, no.- _

"So, she likes you," I said. "She told me she was going to marry you the night you came to Shiz and threw that party."

He looked utterly bewildered. "She _did_?"

I sighed. "Yes. Although her being Glinda, she may not have actually still liked you once she got to know you. She tends to throw her whole self completely into things, only to find later that she doesn't really like them as much as she thought she would, seeing them from a distance."

Fiyero gave me a look. "You sure are observant."

"Or overly imaginative. Take your pick." It was meant rhetorically, but he considered it for a moment.

"Both," he said.

"In Glinda's case, though, I actually did observe her," I went on. "She _is _my roommate, you know." He nodded.

"I know that, and I know you've got one book propped up on your shelf and a bunch of others under your bed, which has a quilt folded on the end of it, and Glinda has a bunch of shoes and a big floofy purple thing on her bed."

I was sure my jaw had dropped completely off my face.

"What- h-how did you know that?" I stuttered. He had a big, mischievous grin on his face.

"Panty raid," he answered.

"You had better be joking," I said, real anger rising in my chest.

"I am, I am," he added hastily, cutting off the rant he could see me working up. "I just looked in there once, when I was searching the campus for you, to kidnap you. Remember?"

I relaxed. "All right," I said. He grinned at me again, charmingly, heart-meltingly. The anger dissipated and was replaced by love and longing to kiss him again.

And then-

then he was leaning over the table, and so was I, and we were kissing, and everyone was staring, and strange feelings I didn't know I had were rising up in me _am I this normal, to be capable of feeling this?_ and the kiss grew longer and deeper and I didn't want it to end-

And then, it did, accidentally, with my losing my balance and falling back, and seeing Glinda flee the room, hand over her mouth, and hearing the jeers and laughter of our classmates.

"I'll see you later- Glinda- I've got to-"

Fiyero nodded. "Go," he said, "I'll deal with the hungry wolves." He meant the students, of course, which was akin to what I'd been thinking about them, and I laughed. A worried look spread over his face. "Come get me if, you, you know," he smiled sheepishly, "need me to explain anything to her, or anything like that."

I smiled back, awkwardly- it wasn't a position my face was accustomed to- and ran after Glinda.


	9. Sincerity

**A/N: I'm sorry I've abandoned this story, I was busy with _The Crucible_, which you'd all BETTER review if you've read it- and with school, the root of all evil, etc. **

**Disclaimer: The Gregmeister's, not mine. **

"Glinda?" I called. I had seen the back of her rose-colored dress fleeing down this hallway, but where was she? "Glinda!"

I turned around a corner, and found her, in an alcove. A few tears stained her pink cheeks, but her face was expressionless.

"Glinda, what's wrong?" I asked. It was completely _stupid_ of me to ask, since obviously we both knew that I knew what was wrong, that I _was_ what was wrong (as usual) but the words were automatic. She turned to me, and I saw her eyes open and knew that I was at last going to get a straight answer out of her.

"I know," she began, then stopped, choking herself off, for a moment. "I know that Fiyero never got- you- know, the idea that we were- really together, and that most of it was in my head, but you know, don't you Elphie, it still kind of hurts?"

"I know…it can hurt to see…someone else with something you want and can't have," I said. "I've had practice."

"And you know, I don't think it would have lasted, between Fiyero and I," said Glinda, beginning to cheer up a bit. "He's gone a bit odd." I smothered down a laugh at that.

"Everyone loves you, Glinda, you know that," I said. "You could have any boy you wanted. You know Boq's completely in love with you, don't you?"

"Oh, Boq," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Let's don't talk about Boq."

"You need to fix that whole thing, you know," I told her. "You can't let he and Nessie go on like that."

She looked at me in surprise. "You know-"

I cut her off. "I guessed. It wasn't terribly difficult. Boq's stalking you, you have a talk with him and next thing I know Nessie's telling me you helped him get up the nerve to ask her to a dance."

"Oh," said Glinda sadly. "Does Nessie- has she figured-"

"No, she hasn't. Love blinds, you know."

"I know."

I looked at her thoughtfully. "You know, Glinda," I said, "you've changed lately. You just may be going a bit odd yourself."

She giggled. "Or maybe you're contagious!"

I laughed- this was mutual teasing, benevolent, between two good friends who can say anything to one another, this was girl-world, this was that place of laughter and friendship and gossip and slumber parties I'd never before been privy to- but no, it really wasn't, I realized. It went deeper than that. It was _adult _friendship, the kind that didn't melt away in silly sixth-grade snits. Glinda's thoughts seemed to be following the same line, for she said,

"You know, Elphie, half the time I have no idea what you're talking about, but I think I'm learning, and besides that, the other half of the time you're a whole lot nicer than Millie and Pfan-pfan and Shenna."

I couldn't help but laugh at the purposeful confuddlement of her friends' names, yet at the same time it struck me in a far darker way than it could possibly have been meant. Were they really so interchangeable, those blonde glittery society girls, that their names didn't even matter? Was that the way the boys thought of them, too? Was that, perhaps, why they were mean, in some misguided effort at distinguishing themselves, at least from those they were putting down?

Somehow, it struck me as unutterably sad, and for the first time ever I felt sorry for them.

_Fiyero:_

_They were all laughing. I grinned. This was going to be fun. I stood up on the table. I was a prince, after all, a politician born and raised. I picked up a glass and a fork and clanged them together. _

"_Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in this room," I began melodramatically, getting quite a few chortles. "Shut the hell up. Thank you." _

_I bowed, leapt of the table, and exited grandly in search of the Odd Couple of roommates. _

Elphaba: I had just finished getting Glinda back into sorts when Nessie came wheeling up to me quickly, breathing hard with exertion, her hair askew over her violet headband.

"What is it, Nessie?" I asked, the knowledge of Boq's secret heavy on my heart. She was my sister, and I didn't want her to get hurt, but I didn't want to be the one to hurt her. She was so…earnest and pure, and that was what made me love her even when Father held me up against her and discarded me, as he so often did.

"It's Boq! He's asked me out to dinner tonight, in town, and he says he has something important to say!" she exclaimed, the words coming quickly, eagerly, in her pretty voice that sounded younger than she was. "Do you think-" she hesitated there, getting a bit shy, but as it was me and the two of us had shared everything, forever, she went on- "Do you think maybe he might ask me to be, you know, his _special _friend?"

I wanted to laugh at the endearing way she had phrased it. On someone else, Nessie's naivete might seem like a garishly false and annoying guise, but her sincerity was always palpable. As a person, Nessie was like that- so open and honest in everything. How Boq, who was normally a sweet person even if he did hate me because I was green, could even bear to deceive her was beyond me. She was the one person I'd never been able to act with, or to use my defense mechanisms, which was why it was a good thing she was so feverishly excited now, or else she would have been able to tell I was hiding something. With Nessarose, I was a terribly bad liar.

"Nessie…" I started, "maybe you shouldn't-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Fabala, but there's Glinda! I have to go tell her, she's the one who made all this happen!" She wheeled herself off happily and tore my heart in two as she went. I was watching her go when suddenly I heard someone's voice in my ear.

"Hey."

It was Fiyero. "Is…everything all right with Glinda?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so. Maybe even better than before," I said. "How did it go with the 'hungry wolves?'"

"Ah, well, I basically told them to piss off, and since that's standard dialect over at Ozma Towers, they pretty much just laughed and probably went back to throwing food at each other and belching once I left."

"And the girls?"

"They'll follow whatever Glinda does, remember? They practically stalk her."

I laughed. "True."

"You're worried about something," he said, studying my face. "What?"

"It's Nessarose," I said.

"What? Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Well, you know, Glinda set her up with Boq," I said. A guilty look crossed Fiyero's face. "Yeah, I know," he said.

"And she just did it to get rid of Boq, he doesn't really like Nessie, but she loves him. He told her he had something important to say tonight, and she thinks he's going to be her 'special friend,' as she put it."

"That is a problem," said Fiyero.

"It must be killing Boq, though. He's far from evil, and I think even someone truly evil would have a hard time lying to Nessie's face," I said. "She's so- honest and sweet. She's -what would they call it, in a fairy tale?- pure of heart."

Fiyero smiled at me. "She's not the only one in the family."

"I am far from pure of heart, Fiyero. I lie, I act, I bite people's heads off."

"You're also hopelessly idealistic, and hopelessly romantic-"

"That I'm not." I paused. "Loving someone too much gets you into trouble because then they die, and you can either let yourself die with them or you can look everywhere for someone to blame and cause them the pain you're trying to bear." I felt the tears gathering behind my eyes and I turned to flee, but Fiyero grabbed me and pulled me back, until he was looking into my eyes.

"You don't believe that," he said.

"I don't want to get hurt," I told him.

"You're scary and damaged, but you still don't believe that," Fiyero said. "You don't."

"I-"

"You're too strong for that," he went on. "You're too strong for your father to take love away from you, Elphaba. You deserve better than that, you deserve to know what love is, and you have to believe me, Elphaba, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Ah, damn it, you made me cry."

"Elphaba, I need you to tell me that you believe me."

My stomach was twisting. I wanted, _needed_, more than anything to believe him. Deep down, I truly did. My barriers were stretched to their limits, though, trying to keep him out.

I looked into his blue eyes. There was no deception there, only sincerity.

"I believe you," I said, and it was not a lie.


	10. Negative Tropisms

**A/N: Ok, so let's say the last chapter started at…lunch, so now they'd be having afternoon classes. Also, since this is musical, I'm going with Dr. Dillamond having been the history teacher, so their life sciences teacher is some random person. Also, my biology teacher seriously said 'defy gravity' like five times when she was explaining this, causing my best friend and I to avoid each other's eyes like mad so we didn't burst out laughing- or singing. Oh, and I hope I spelled gravitotropism right since I looked in two dictionaries and can't find it and my biology notes aren't here, so…also, I know this is really rather short, but too bad, I have to go to school soon.**

**Disclaimer: It's not mine but it is morning so don't expect much disclaimer cleverness. **

"And the stems show what is called a _negative _tropism in gravitotropism, because, unlike the roots, they grow upwards, defying gravity."

I scribbled down the notes, one phrase sticking in my head. 'Defying gravity.' What an amazing thing that would be to do. I stopped paying attention- this was all in the book, anyway, I assured myself- and focused inward, drifting into a daydream…but this didn't feel like a daydream, the edges came in a fuzzy pattern I recognized, yet it felt too- real- to be a mere daydream…

_I'm flying, I'm flying above everyone and everything. The still, stale dark air ripples at my feet as I ascend higher and higher, breaking through a window and emerging into the cool breeze and daylight sun. There is nothing like this…I feel like my soul has been let loose and I am nothing but a crescendo of beautiful notes, powerful chords, singing my triumph to the world! _

A tap on the arm jolted me out of my reverie.

"Hey," said Fiyero, standing above me. "Class is over."

"Oh." I stood and gathered my things, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry…"

He waved it off. "What were you thinking about? You looked a million miles away," he said as we began walking to the dining hall.

"Negative tropisms," I replied. He looked at me skeptically. I grinned. "In a word, flying."

"I see…"

"No, really- gravitotropism. Defying gravity, get it?"

"You think too much."

"I've been told." I smiled.

"Anyway, do you know what they're serving for dinner? I was thinking if it was too…what's a word you'd use? Torpid?"

I gave him a look. "Lethargic?" I asked, smiling.

"Oh, no…_fetid_, that's it…well, anyway, we could sneak off and find something edible, maybe bring Glinda and Nessarose and-"

"Oh, no," I breathed, remembering.

"What?" Fiyero asked worriedly.

"Nessie…Boq's going to break her heart tonight, I know it." I turned and began to run back towards Crage Hall. Fiyero caught up to me easily.

"Elphaba, are you sure…I mean, you can't hide her from the world, you can't fight her battles for her, not forever."

"No!" I said fiercely. "This one, I have to."

"All right, then," said Fiyero, accepting it, "I'll help you."

"How?"

"Let's invite Nessie and Boq to dinner with us and some others. He won't be able to break it off in front of all those people."

"You are definitely _not _brainless," I told him.

"Gee, thanks."

"Hey, that may be as close as you get to a compliment for a while, with me."

…

When I burst into Nessie's room, leaving Fiyero outside of Crage, she was in her wheelchair in front of the vanity, putting pretty gold earrings into her ears and tucking her freshly brushed hair under a silk headband.

"Nessie," I said, trying to make my voice cheerful, "Fiyero's had a great idea-" _You're not actually lying, Elphaba, you can do this_, I told myself. "He wants to invite the whole group of us out to dinner together, Boq, too. Do you want to come?"

_Please, please, please say yes. _

She turned towards me, face glowing.

"Oh, no thank you, Elphaba. I'll ask Boq, but I'd really rather we go by ourselves."

_Shit_.

"No you wouldn't!" I exclaimed, the words bursting out before I could stop them. Nessarose looked at me suspiciously.

"Why not?" she asked.


	11. Magic

**A/N: This may be the longest chapter I've ever written. It has also been heavily influenced by Isabel Allende and X-Men (perhaps the oddest combination ever) in that it has a _long _retelling of some of Elphaba's childhood, in particular the development of her powers (light bulbs go off in everyone's heads. Aah, NOW it makes sense!) **

**Disclaimer: Although I work and seldom cease**

**At reading it and owning this, **

**Alas I cannot seem to get**

**Past reading this to owning it**

**And I don't even own the structure of that poem! Dorothy Parker does. **

Under my sister's gaze, I grew flustered and couldn't lie.

"I…I…I," I stuttered, trying to think of something.

"What is it, Elphaba?" asked Nessarose with a glint of hard steel in her voice that I'd never heard before. "What do you know?"

"Boq- he- he's not going to ask you to-to be his girlfriend," I stammered. "He's going to break up with you." Her eyes went wide, her face turned white.

"You're lying!" she screamed. "You're just jealous because no one will ever love you because you're- you're just a hideous, awful, freak!"

I slapped her across the face. I had never done anything like that before in my life.

"You're wrong," I said calmly, not allowing myself to be angry. "Someone does love me. Father may not, but I've learned that's not my fault. It's his. He's not a strong enough person to bear grief without a scapegoat." Her round eyes grew even wider and her mouth dropped open. I had violated the sacred family precept of blaming me. "Someone who- someone who does love me told me that."

"Get out," she said quietly. "Get out of my room, Elphaba. I can't- I have to- I can't talk to you right now."

Satisfied that irreparable damage had not been done to our relationship, I went outside to find Fiyero.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"It'll be better…later," I said. I felt strangely hot, as though my cheeks were flushing. "Once she's talked to Boq and she knows I was telling the truth."

"Oh, no," he murmured, "she found out?"

"I slipped up," I said. "She didn't want to go, she wanted to talk to Boq, and…"

"Elphaba?" asked Fiyero, looking at me strangely, "are you all right?" It was then that I realized through the hot muggy fog of my own head that I was swaying, having trouble standing. I wiped my forehead, it felt nearly damp with the feverish threat of impending sweat.

"Elphaba?" Fiyero's voice was coming at me from very far away. His arm was holding me, touching me through just a thin layer of cloth, but it felt…removed, as though it and my physical body were in some otherworld… "Elphaba!"

I felt the blackness closing in on me from all corners of my muddled mind, and, fevered and ill, I let go and clung to it.

…

I drifted in and out of consciousness for three days up in my dorm room, with Morrible, Glinda, Fiyero, Nessarose, and a coterie of nurses hovering over me. I drifted through scenes of past and future and what I was not quite aware was the present (that consisted, mostly, of vaguely familiar faces hovering over me) I drifted through the dark corners of my childhood and the shadows of what was to come.

I dreamt, and later when I woke completely, all that remained were scattered impressions:

A living Scarecrow, a shiny, silver man, the shrill annoying bark of a small dog, the stonework of an unfamiliar castle, desperation, the yellowed old pages of a book, the brink of insanity. Also good things- the warm weight of a familiar hand on my back, the scratch of straw against my cheek and the feeling of safety, a moonlit forest, a brief feeling of relief in a dance to music that was somehow familiar though I'd never heard its like before.

Also, also, this:

It began a few days before my mother's death. I only know this from patched together memories, snatches of dreams, and whispers around corners from my fearsome nanny. A woman unversed in the art of coddling, her sarcasm and unbridled bitchiness and personality greatly influenced me, as everyone at Shiz knows quite well.

But for three days before Nessarose's birth, I awoke screaming, pummeling invisible, intangible demons I lacked the words to name.

The next time, I was five and I got a premonition that Nessarose, just three, would get sick, and like an idiot I told my father. At first, he didn't believe me, but two days later when Nessa contracted pneumonia and nearly died, my father, predictably, blamed me.

When I was eight, a neighbor was teasing me and I was giving it right back, until I got a sudden, horrific, gory vision of his death, getting caught in the grain thresher he was playing near, his father's, carelessly left running. Ten years later, the graphic vision still haunted my nightmares. I shouted it out and he just laughed at me, but his father found out about it and three days later, when he died, I was nearly killed by a mob of our neighbors who stormed up to our house bearing torches and pitchforks, weapons that were no match for the rage of my Nanny, a veritable force of nature, that confronted them at our front door. They left nearly instantly.

The first outward manifestation of my powers came when I was thirteen. I was gangly as a long-legged colt, with pointy knees, elbows and nose and long, dark hair I kept so severely braided that it, always straight as sticks, came wavy when I loosed it at night. I had owlish glasses and always carried a thick book with me. Not only was it interesting with the added benefit of encouraging people to leave me alone, but it also made a good weapon. I didn't have much need of it, though. Although I was never included, my classmates, having known me since early childhood, no longer felt the need to constantly mock me. They knew that I would thwack them with an 800 page Vinkusian discourse on politics and suspected inwardly that I'd kill them or turn them into toads. We had all been raised between our superstitious nannies and grandparents and our pragmatic parents, creating in us a peculiar blend of mythology and skepticism. The idea of Lurline and Preenella visiting at Lurlinemas we scoffed at, and we could all see straight through those stories whose only value was to frighten children into obedience, but the other dark stories of witches and malevolent fairies and changelings, lingered at the shadowy edges of our young minds, deeply influencing us all.

But one day when I was thirteen, at lunchtime I came upon a group of children teasing Nessa, whom they were spinning around in her wheelchair.

"How come you can't walk, Princess, huh? Did your freaky sister break your legs so that she could-"

"SHUT UP!" I screamed, storming towards them, eyes and figurative guns blazing. The air around me began to crackle palpably with electricity. Sparks danced along the edges of my fingers; I fisted my hands and they grew there into glowing balls radiating comforting heat.

Slowly, I opened my hands and released the collected energy into an explosion of heat and light that knocked all of us down and sent the other children flying backwards. But they didn't get up, they lay, not dead but _paused_, on the ground. Yet the air around Nessarose and I was anything but paused; it spun and crackled and buzzed.

"Elphaba!" screamed Nessarose in terror. "Stop it!"

"I can't, I can't, it's not me, no, no!" I screamed, just as terrified. I had been pushed back to my feet and the air around Nessarose and I became a swirling vortex, filled with electricity, spinning outwards from me uncontrollably as I sobbed until I passed out.

After that, my father hired a woman to teach us at home and we didn't attend regular school again until Shiz.

My bursts of power became more frequent and when I grew angry I would run to my room and be found, later, passed out on the bed. By the time I was fifteen, though, I had learnt how not to pass out and how to stop the vortex from forming, but none of the rest of it.

My next vision came when I was fourteen. As a motherless girl in an old-fashioned home who had no ill-advised friends to whisper about the mysterious secrets of sex with, I had basically no idea about any of it, so when I dreamt about getting my period I thought it meant I was going to die. I, with the fatalism I had recently adopted (and just as quickly rejected), cleaned my room, made a will leaving everything but the diaries detailing my hatred for my father to Nessa (the diaries I left to Daddy Dearest), and reread my favorite book. Despite all my preparations, when I did find blood in my panties I screamed like a banshee and went running to find Nanny, who gave me a saucy, lurid explanation of sex that was at least clear, though horrifying to my inexperienced, serious, sensibilities, and sent me away with linens and the assurance that I wasn't dying, although I would be if I didn't get the hell out of the kitchen _this second, Miss Elphaba_.

A few months after that, I had my worst 'episode' ever. I guess maybe PMS had something to do with its intensity, for I nearly blew up the house in a huge fight with my father, and, when he threatened to have me locked up in an insane asylum as a menace to society, I lost control and nearly zapped him.

All this came surging up at me, drowning out the actual premonition that I, eighteen year old, unconscious, Elphaba, was having; of train rides and secrets and spells and monkeys with wings and attics and brooms that flew.

And, when I did wake fully, all that was solidly forgotten with one look into Fiyero's worried blue eyes, bringing me firmly back to this world.


	12. Don't Mess With The Hair

**A/N: Haha, the hair thing actually has a basis in real life with my nutty friends and I…actually, it has two. The second one was in World History today. We were all, including the teacher, talking about this one random movie theater for some reason, and how it was dirty and stuff but it was still awesome, and one kid said: "When my friends and I went there, this one random old guy sitting behind us was like stroking my friend's hair and she was really freaked out." And I was like, "If someone did that to me, I'd punch them and them scream 'SECURITY!' at the top of my lungs." **

**And the other one…my random friends, curling irons, homecoming, Baskin Robbins, and that's all I have to say about that. **

**Disclaimer: It's Greggie MaG's, not mine. **

A week after I finally got back to classes, a week in which I gave Fiyero hell for treating me like I was made of glass or something and finally climbed a tree and jumped out of it and nearly sprained my ankle to prove I was fine, we were sitting together in history class and I began to feel the odd sensation of Fiyero playing with my hair. Inexplicably, it gave me the feel of watching intimacy between two people, intimacy that you _really_ do not want to see, and it made me feel a bit ill and slightly…dirty or _off _in some way.

"Fiyero," I hissed, sharper than intended. He pulled back but left his hand in my hair. "Please, don't."

"Why not?" he asked as class ended, but we remained seated, talking. He pulled his hand out of my hair but grabbed my hand instead.

"Please…just…no," I said, grabbing my bag hurriedly and running out.

"Fae!" he yelled, catching up effortlessly. He grabbed hold of my wrist to stop me. "Wait. What's wrong, tell me; have I done anything wrong?"

"No," I said, wishing briefly I could be normal in just this one thing, "no. It's just…please, don't touch me in public."

"What! Why? Are you…ashamed?"

"God, no. But…aren't you?" I asked. Not the root of why I didn't like it, I couldn't even begin to explain my own pathology, but it was an issue that needed addressing. I looked at him, feeling terribly exposed and vulnerable, which I didn't like in the least.

"No," he said, his voice soft. "Why would I be?"

"Because," I said through a knot in my throat, "You're…you're _you_, and…and…I'm not Glinda."

"I know," said Fiyero gently, "that's why I love you."

"You shouldn't," I told him fiercely, trying to pull away. "I don't deserve it."

"No, no! If anyone doesn't deserve love here, it's me, not you, Elphaba. You're a much better person than I am," he told me.

"No, I'm not! I'm awful! I'm an awful girl who made her sister and her roommate cry and who's sarcastic and selfish half the time and just…" I trailed off, spent. "Awful."

"You are _not _awful."

"Yes, I am!"

"Elphaba," said Fiyero, giving up the topic of my awfulness for a moment, "tell me you love me."

I wouldn't look at him, I couldn't look at him and lie. I couldn't lie full out, anyway. "No."

"No, you don't love me?"

"No! No! I do, God knows I do…" I blurted out, "but I don't want to tie you to me…I do, _I _want to, but I shouldn't. I can't. You deserve better."

"Elphaba, just shut up!" Fiyero cried, grabbing me by the shoulders. "You're not awful and it's not your fault Glinda and Nessarose built up fake loves in their heads, and it's not your fault your mother died, and you're not selfish, you're frustratingly unselfish because you care about everyone and everything _too_ much and you try to help other people- Animals- in the craziest ways, and you're smart and funny and incredible and _beautiful_ and I. Love. You. and it's the craziest, most _real _feeling I've ever had and I need you to just _accept _that for me, please!"

I was crying now, hard.

"I can," I said, "I'll try…I'm not beautiful, though, please don't spoil things by lying."

He groaned. "You _are,_" he said, "but I won't argue that now."

"I love you," I told him, "You're perfect, because you're not perfect in the most perfect way possible, and I love you more than anything, and I don't know how I know how to, I didn't think I'd ever know how to, but I do and I know and I can, somehow." He kissed me, and after a really long time we broke apart, reluctantly.

"But still," I said, after a moment, "don't play with my hair in class."


	13. Desk Job

**A/N: Okay, moving forward at last. Now, in the next chapter, those accompanying Elphaba may not be whom you expected…**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Wizard of Oz stickers are mine though! Bwahaha! **

It was that same week that I discovered everything I'd ever believed was a lie.

"Elphaba," said Dr. Nikidik after class, "could you wait a moment, please? Madame Morrible wanted to speak with you- nothing bad, dear girl, don't worry- and I must go fetch her. Could you please wait here?"

"Of course," I said, pleasant anticipation tingling down my spine. Could it be- something about the Wizard?

"I'll wait with you," said Fiyero. The moment Nikidik was gone, Fiyero was at his desk.

"Come on," he whispered.

"What in hell are you _doing_?"

"Maybe there's something about Dillamond in here, and what happened to him!"

That was all I needed. I hurried over to the desk and began rifling through the papers.

"I found something!" I cried suddenly, catching sight of the Goat's name on a sheet of paper. Fiyero came around behind me and I began to read aloud.

"Dillamond, William. For the spreading of subversive ideals, corruption of youth, and refusing to voluntarily relinquish his position as an Animal in the professions, he is to be imprisoned and reeducated so as to be-" I swallowed, feeling sick, "to be- to be deprived of the- the capability to speak and- and to reason."

I looked at Fiyero, bile rising in my stomach.

"Oh, sweet Lurline," I said. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Fiyero's eyes were round with horror.

"I-I never thought," he said, stricken, "I never thought it was anything so horrible- are they- do they even have the capabilities to-"

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know how they _can _do it. Who is doing this? It can't be the Wizard, can it?" _No, no, no. He's _good._ He _has _to be._

"No," said Fiyero. "The leader of Oz can't possibly be that evil. We'd know. We'd have to."

"It must be a corrupt ministry or something," I said. "He can't know about this…someone has to tell him! Someone has to stop it!"

We looked at each other again, standing up, as the full horror of it hit us. We both began to cry, imagining the awful fate of our brilliant, beloved teacher. Fiyero and I held onto each other to keep standing, for the world around us was spinning and reforming altogether beneath our feet.

As we began to calm down a bit, Madame Morrible entered the room.

"Miss Elphaba," she said, looking at me down her nose, "What in Oz is the matter with you?"

"Madame," I said, "We've just discovered what's happened to Dr. Dillamond. It's- it's not what you think, it's-"

"Have you been looking through Dr. Nikidik's private things?" she asked, furious. She suddenly saw Fiyero and fixed him with a menacing glare. "You," she said. "Master Fiyero, this is _your_ influence on Miss Elphaba-"

"It is _not!_" I cried, enraged. "I am not being _influenced_. I make my own decisions and always have, thank you _very _much!"

"Hmmph," replied Madame Morrible, unconvinced. I glared. "Well, I'll let it go this time, seeing as how you were only concerned about your old teacher. But he's fine, my girl, you mustn't believe everything you read. Good news, my dear," she went on, ignoring my protest. "The Wizard has asked to see you."


	14. Come With Me To The Emerald City

**A/N: The beginning is Fiyero POV. I don't know if I'll add any others besides his and Elphaba's; I may, but I'm improving this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: C'est a Gregory Maguire, pas a moi.**

_Fiyero: _

_She was going away in the morning. She was going away and taking with her her unexpected beauty, her sudden and unique pronouncements on life, her passionate rants (and kisses), her fire, her anger, her joy, her strength and conviction that put the rest of us to shame. _

_She was going away, and taking the new me. I liked myself, for the first time in my life. It had sure seemed, before, like I loved myself, but I hadn't. I'd hated my guts. I'd wanted to be different- to make a difference, really- but I'd never known how, before Elphaba. Elphaba-Fabala-Elphie-Fae. _

_And then I knew: I was going with her. I'd always planned on going to see her off at the train station, and since I knew she'd object to my going with, and so would Morrible, for sure, I'd just buy another train ticket before 'saying goodbye' and hop on the next car behind hers. _

_With a plan, I thought I'd be able to fall asleep, but I couldn't. I just kept picturing Elphaba- Elphaba pushing her round spectacles up her nose, Elphaba throwing a book at my head- I winced at that memory- Elphaba soaking wet, mingled rage and happiness fighting in her face as she levitated me off the ground, Elphaba, loaded down with books up to her eyes, crossing the courtyard, Elphaba, sitting on the courtyard's brick wall under the tree, eating an apple, reading a book, knees up to her chest, Elphaba, entering the dance my first night at Shiz, her spine straight as a rod, her face noble and set, walking down that staircase like a queen. She'd looked oblivious to the whispers and stares, but I knew now she wasn't. She tried to be, but she wasn't. They made her less sad than angry, though, ready to turn on her heel and spit fire at the offender. She sometimes did, too. More memories: Elphaba, at that second party where I'd gotten completely smashed and tried to come on to her, sloppy and brave with alcohol, Elphaba, in that shimmering black gown that picked up the same light as her hair and shaded her skin and turned her into an angel of the night. Elphaba, in the golden afternoon light of the library, smiling self-deprecatingly to conceal her pain. _

_It was morning before I realized I'd fallen asleep- and dreamed, of course, of Elphaba. _

Elphaba:

Packing was a headache. Glinda flitted around the suitcase like an insane, caffeinated, hot-pink butterfly, trying to sneak in "decent" (re: fluorescent and hoop-skirted) clothes.

"No, Glinda," I said, pulling out a hideous bright turquoise skirt. "Even I know how horrible I'd look in this. Not to mention that it's probably itchy."

"Beauty is pain," replied my indomitable roommate, throwing a pink beribboned shirt onto the small black and navy blue pile of folded clothes.

"Not pain to everyone else's eyes," I countered, firmly giving it back.

"That's not what I meant. I meant, you really should think about what I said, about tweezing your eyebrows."

I groaned. "_No_."

"Please, Elphie, let me do your make-up!"

"Glinda. No. You seem incapable of realizing that I do _not_, erm, share your coloring."

"So?"

"So, you can't put pink blush and blue eyeshadow on me! No!" I threw myself down on the bed, flushed and exhausted with excitement. Glinda popped down next to me.

"Are you excited?" she whispered.

"More than you'd ever guess," I said, sitting up. "I wonder what he'll be like, you know? Do you think it'll be scary? Do you think he'll hate me? Everyone else does."

"No, Elphie! The Wizard's not _like _everyone else, that's why he's in charge of Oz and we're not! And besides, not _everyone _hates you. I don't, Fiyero doesn't, Nessarose doesn't-"

"She does now," I said, forgetting that I'd gotten sick before I'd told Glinda what had happened with Nessie.

"What? What do you mean?"

"She found out about Boq. I-I told her. It kind of slipped out. She accused me of being jealous because no one would ever love me, and we got into kind of a big fight." I swallowed hard. "I don't want to leave with her still mad at me, but…"

"Don't worry," said Glinda, smiling brilliantly, "I'll take care of it."

"But-"

"Elphie," Glinda held up a perfectly manicured hand. "Just let me worry about this, all right?"

"Fine." I settled back with a defeated sigh. "I should probably get some sleep."

But I couldn't. Andstrangely enough, what kept me up wasn't anticipation about the Wizard…it was memories of Fiyero. I didn't want to leave, and I did. I knew- this was the chance I'd always dreamed about, to _do _something, to _be _someone (to make Frex proud for once) but…I'd never dreamed I could be loved, too. Never dreamed I could be happy. And I was, for the first time in my life. Should I, really, take a chance with that?

_No, Elphaba_, I told myself firmly. _Don't be an idiot. You're only going to see him. You're coming back. And besides, you're not throwing this over for a boy. You're not that dependent, that stupid. No. _

Still fighting with myself, I fell asleep, and I dreamed about Fiyero in a green uniform pointing a shiny silver pistol at a gigantic golden head.

Definitely not a premonition. Definitely not.

_Fiyero: _

_Oh, shit. _

_I was going to be late. I ran like hell to the train station, sighing in relief to see an agitated Elphaba and flittering Glinda still standing there. I handed Elphaba the flowers I'd gotten her; she looked a bit shocked, despite herself. _

"_Thank you," she said, and abruptly turned her head away. Could it be that she was suffering from the same demons as I was? _

"_Hello, Fiyero," said Glinda. _

"_Hi," I replied, just thankful she'd given up Fi-fi. I turned back to Elphaba. "You're coming back, aren't you?" _

"_Yes," she said, a bit uncertainly. "I haven't graduated yet, you know. I think this is just an interview, sort of." _

_There was something the matter with her. I remembered some of the things she'd said in her sleep, when she was sick. Visions, she had visions. What had she seen? _

"_Elphaba," I said cautiously, "is something the matter? Have you- have you seen something?" _

_She looked startled, like a deer surprised in the forest in the silent, still moment just before either it ran or you shot, or stepped forward, or made a noise that sent it flying. _

"_No…not…clearly," she said hesitantly. _

"_What are you talking about?" asked Glinda. _

"_Nothing," said Elphaba, too quickly. "Nothing," she repeated, as if convincing herself. "Glinda," she said, suddenly, "come with me." _

"_What?" asked the blonde girl, shocked. "I can't!" _

"_Come on, please," begged Elphaba. "I-I'm not so sure I can manage alone." There was a glimpse of something strange in her eyes, something needy and vulnerable I'd seen, barely, once or twice before, but she'd always taken care to hide it. What was it, I wondered, the two-year-old motherless girl left without affection rearing her small dark head within the fiercely independent eighteen-year-old? _

_And that made up my mind. I was going with her, whether she liked it or not. Of course, she wouldn't know until I got there and presented myself, there, as a _fait accompli_, but that didn't really matter. But if I was to do this, I had to go _now_. I'd revised my plan. I'd get there first. _

"_I've got to go," I said, grabbing her and kissing her hard before she could protest, then taking off. _

"_Fiyero!" I heard her yell, somewhat angrily, from behind me. I smiled and whooped crazily once out of her earshot, getting myself some strange looks from two old ladies nearby, to whom I then presented my best prince's smile and bow before running off again. _

Elphaba:

Damn him, he was up to something, I could tell by the way he'd run off so quickly. But I couldn't think about that, I had to deal with Glinda. I needed her, somehow, with me. Needed, or wanted. It was probably the second, although didn't I deserve to have something I wanted, for once?

It was quite a shock to realize that I already, in fact, did. And I was leaving him behind.

"Please," I said to Glinda again. "Come on. Morrible won't punish you; she likes your parents' money too much. Come on, what have you got to lose? Everything all the teachers say is in the books anyhow."

"Oh," said Glinda, "so _that's_ what you study." I gave her a look, and she laughed. "I'm just kidding," she said, "I'm not _that _stupid."

"You're not stupid," I said, "just… fluffy." She giggled.

"Oh, all right," she relented. "I'll go."


	15. Protecting

**A/N: Mk, I do believe there are some people out there who owe me some reviews. I'm watching you, someone stole my lock (but nothing in my locker…mental case) and I am NOT in the best mood, okay? Okay. Also, I have a rather long Fiyero POV this time so it's not going to be in italics but POV switches will be labeled.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. BUT MY LOCK IS AND I WANT IT BACK! **

**Fiyero: **

Coming out of the bathroom on the train, I realized something very bad: I'd have to pass Elphaba and Glinda, who had come onto the train while I'd been in there. They were about six rows away from where I stood (all six were occupied, of _course_) and Glinda was laughing hysterically about something while Elphaba was barely suppressing a smile. I was about ready to back into the bathroom and spend the entire rest of the trip there (much to the dismay of all the other passengers) when Elphaba's hazel gaze locked on me.

_Oh shit_. I was in trouble now.

Slowly, she raised an arm and crooked a spindly green finger at me.

_Get over here. NOW_. I could practically hear her voice in my head. Hey, maybe I could; she had dumped me into a lake without using her hands once, after all.

Gulping, I walked over to them. Glinda giggled when she saw me.

"Elphie's gonna kill you," she said.

"Can I get it commuted to a life sentence?" I asked Elphaba, grinning. She glared.

"What the _hell _are you doing here, Fiyero?" she demanded, throwing the still-giggling Glinda a dark look.

"I'm off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz?" I sing-songed half-heartedly and smiled weakly.

"You think I need a protector, don't you? You think I can't handle myself!" she hissed. She was standing now, eyes blazing, hands clenched into fists.

_Uh-oh_. The last time I'd seen that look, our entire class had ended up frozen with lightning crackling allowed them, and Elphaba and I had probably broken several laws in setting free that lion cub.

"No," I said, mostly truthfully, "I just wanted to come."

Elphaba flopped back into her seat, unconvinced.

"Go _away_, Fiyero."

"You want me to jump off a moving train?" I asked her.

She sat up straight and her eyes sparked.

"Maybe," she said ominously, folding her arms into a subtle sulk. "I'm seriously considering it."

I sat down in the empty seat next to her.

"I don't think you need to be protected," I said honestly. "I just think- know- I need you."

She mumbled something unintelligible into her own shoulder.

"What?" I asked.

"I said, I need you too." She sighed. "But not to protect me."

"Miss Elphaba," I said. "I can't possibly protect you, and do you know why not?"

"No, and I don't really want to," she replied.

"Fae. You have to play the game."

"It's your game, not mine. I don't have to play at all, much less by the rules," she answered.

"Please?" I begged.

"Fine. Why not, Fiyero?"

"Because, my dear Fabala-Fae, I need protection _from _you."

"Ha ha," she said dryly. "You're hilarious."

…

Elphaba:

Hours later, once Glinda had fallen asleep with her blonde head smushed into the window, I stabbed Fiyero's side with a finger to wake him.

"Fae, what the hell do you want?" he asked. "It's nearly midnight."

"Ssh," I said. "I wanted to talk to you, about what you said earlier." I flushed, glad it was dark. "About protection."

I could see Fiyero's old smirk and I realized what I'd said. "Shut up," I told him.

"I didn't say anything!" I could feel his grin radiating. I whacked him gently with the flat of my palm.

"Seriously, Fiyero."

"I know. I was only kidding."

"The truth is…"

"The truth is, Fae, I'd like to protect you," he said, seriously. "And I'd like just as much for you to protect me."

"Not _protect_, Yero my hero," I said. "Support. Help. Lean on."

He looped his arm around my back.

"It sounds like a plan," he said. "Now can I sleep?"

When we woke up, I found to my pleasant surprise that my head was resting on his shoulder, and his chin lay on my ear.

It was more comfortable than it sounded.


	16. Defying Gravity

**A/N: Okay, so at first this chapter might use a lot of dialogue from the play, but then it'll start to deviate, I'm not sure for how long or to what extent yet. Excuse any weird things, please, I wrote half this at midnight and the other half in English class, trying not to let my teacher see lest she try to read it…**

**Disclaimer: It's GM's, Stephen Schwartz's, and Winnie Holzman's. **

Elphaba:

Fiyero, it appeared, knew all the best places in the Emerald City. After a few hours of goofing off and silliness (and a few dozen bulging shopping bags for Miss Glinda of the Upper Uplands), we hurried over to the Wizard's palace. The gate-keeper surveyed the three of us haughtily.

"You are Miss Elphaba?" he asked me, obviously taken aback at the look of me but trying to appear blasé anyway. I sighed, the blissful feeling of belonging dissipating quickly.

"Yes," I said.

"You may bring one person in with you." He looked at the three of us for a moment, then pointed to Glinda. "Her."

"No, really, that's all right," Glinda tried to demur, but the guard was having none of it.

"Go on," he said, keeping Fiyero back. "_Now_."

I ran back and kissed Fiyero.

"Good luck, Elphaba," he called as the guard ushered me forward. Then- "I love you!"

I had the strange feeling that we were saying goodbye.

Glinda and I walked down an ornate, candlelit hallway that eventually opened out onto an incredibly grand throne room. We had no time to marvel at its majesty, however, for the lights flickered off and the great golden head in the center of the room began to move and belch smoke.

"I am OZ, the great and terrible!" it boomed. Glinda's perfectly manicured nails dug ferociously into my arm. "WHO DARES DISTURB ME?"

Neither of us could move. We were rooted to the spot in mingled shock and terror. Glinda clutched my arm even harder, if that were possibly.

"Elphie," she hissed, "say something!"

"WHO?" bellowed the head.

"Uh…Elphaba Thropp, your Terribleness!" I said, regaining myself the moment I spoke and kicking myself for ass-licking a second later. Damn. I didn't care if I _did_ respect the Wizard, that still wasn't something _I _did.

"Oh! Oh dear," came the sound of an ordinary voice from somewhere behind the giant head. A short man in an oil-stained lab coat emerged, running his hand absent-mindedly through his gray hair. He looked to be several years older and much kinder than my own father.

"Elphaba!" he cried. "I'm sorry about that, my dear girl, but I didn't know it was you," he said.

"_You're _the Wizard?" I asked.

"I'm afraid so," he replied.

"But…" I gestured towards the giant head.

"I know, I know," he said, laughing a little. "You have to give people what they expect. It's what they want. And that's what I do. I give people what they want," he explained.

I was tempted, purely for the sake of argument, to say _And what if someone wanted to kill you, or overthrow your government?_

But I resisted.

"I'm…really happy to meet you," I said.

"Well, that's wonderful! That's the other thing I do," he said. "I make people happy. It's not always the same thing, you know."

"I know," said Glinda ruefully.

"Elphaba," said the Wizard then, turning to me, "You know, I always wanted to be a father. So, since I believe very firmly that everyone deserves the chance to fly, I'd like to help you get yours."

With difficulty, I managed to anchor myself in reality and avoid the temptation of slipping into a daydream.

"We're here to tell you that something bad is happening," I said.

"I know, my girl. I'm the Wizard of Oz."

Glinda let out a slow, awed breath.

"But first," said the Wizard, "you have to prove yourself. Mostly a formality…just to prove your adeptness."

"Well, go on then, Elphie," said Glinda, shoving me forward. "Prove yourself."

"How?" I asked.

"Madame!" called the Wizard suddenly. "Bring the book out here, would you please?"

To my great shock, Madame Morrible swept in, dressed even more outrageously than usual, carrying an ancient book. I heard Glinda's sharp intake of breath beside me.

"Madame Morrible," she said. "What are you…" she trailed off, realizing that _she _was the one who wasn't really supposed to be here. But Madame Morrible didn't appear to notice.

"I believe both of you know my new Press Secretary _very _well," said the Wizard.

"Press…Secretary?" I asked in disbelief. Something tugged faintly at the edges of my mind. _Something is wrong…something bad…this isn't right…_

I couldn't get a hold of it, though. It kept slipping through my mental fingers.

"Oh, yes, my dears, I've moved up in the world. The Wizard is _very _generous, you know. Do something for him, and he'll do something for you," said our…erstwhile, was it now? headmistress.

_A celebration throughout Oz, that's all to do with me…_

"What do you want me to do?" I asked quickly.

"Well," said the Wizard. For the first time I noticed the…Monkey? monkey? beside him. He was dressed in people's clothes, but as I looked closer, I could tell that he wasn't an Animal. _Something is wrong here, Elphaba…_

"This is my monkey servant, Chistery," the Wizard went on. "Every morning, he stares out at the birds just as if he wants to fly like they do…"

"So," Madame Morrible continued for him, "the Wizard thought that, perhaps, you could try a levitation spell?"

Glinda's curls whipped my shoulder as she jerked her head quickly to look at the book Morrible was holding.

"Is that…the _Grimmerie_?" she gasped in a whisper.

"Yes, the ancient book of spells and enchantments. Very good, Miss Upland," said Morrible, handing it carefully to me. I handled it reverently.

"Can I…maybe…touch it?" whispered Glinda in awe.

"No!" Morrible whispered back.

I opened it carefully. It smelled of spring and autumn afternoons in libraries, of musty paper and knowledge and dreams and kisses. (for me, that went with libraries).

But the letters…they were different.

"What funny writing," I murmured, but just as I did, they seemed to reform themselves before my eyes into something that made more sense than anything else ever had, my whole life. It clicked.

"Well, it's a lost language," said Morrible, oblivious to my revelation. "The lost language of spells."

"It's kind of a recipe book for change," added the Wizard unnecessarily.

"Don't feel bad if you can't read it, my dear. I've studied it for years and I can only decipherate a few spells," said Morrible.

But I could read it, all of it! It was all there…I wondered how she hadn't seen it. Gently laying the large book on the floor, I knelt beside it.

"Aven, tatey, aven tatey aven…"

I could guess at what the words meant, even. _Aven, ave. Bird…something to do with flight. Obviously. _

"Ah may," I went on as the Wizard, behind me, exclaimed something excitedly. "Ah tay ah tum, ah may ah tah tay may tu se say ta!"

Everything paused, for a moment.

Then Chistery howled a bloodcurdling howl of pain and began to writhe.

"Oh, God!" I cried. "What's wrong? What did I do wrong?"

"Dearie! Calm down!" exclaimed Madame Morrible, laying a hand on my shoulder. "It's just a transition. Relax."

"No! Stop it, you're hurting him!" I yelled.

"She's done it! By God, she's really done it!" cried the Wizard jubilantly. I stared at Chistery. Wings began to burst out of his back, muscles and tendons ripping and reforming before my eyes. He screamed in agony. I clapped a hand over my mouth, sure I was going to be sick.

"_No! _Hurry, tell me how to reverse it!" I cried, flipping frantically through the book.

"You can't," Madame Morrible said calmly.

"_What!_" I screamed.

"Spells are irreversible," she told me, unperturbed by Chistery's agonized moans. She turned to the Wizard. "I knew she had the power! I told you, didn't I!"

My knees buckled and it was only with effort that I kept standing. "You…you knew?" I asked her. "You…planned this?"

"It's for your benefit, of course, Elphaba," she said happily.

"And…this is only the beginning!" cried the Wizard, gesturing upwards. All around the room, monkeys were emerging, howling in pain, wings sprouting from their backs. I fell back against the wall in horror and vomited into a corner.

"They're perfect spies!" the Wizard exulted to Morrible.

"Spies?" I cried, straightening.

"No, spies is such a _strong _word…" the Wizard paused, thinking. "Scouts. That's what they are, really. They can fly around and report any subversive Animal activity."

"Subversive…" I trailed off. _My God, what have I **done**_I felt like being sick again.

"You can't read this at all, can you?" I asked the Wizard, terrifying realization flooding me. "That's why you need all this…common enemies, scapegoats, spies, cages…you haven't got any real power at all, have you?"

"That's why I need you, my girl! Don't you see? You can do anything, anything at all now. No one will ever hate you again, Elphaba. Doors will open for you wherever you go!" He glanced at Glinda. "You, too," he added.

"Thank you, your Ozness," she said gratefully. I was going to vomit all over her new shoes, and it would serve her right if I did.

"Ever since I myself got the opportunity," said the Wizard, "I know everyone deserves the chance to…"

"NO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, and then I ran. I ran through hallways upon hallways and up staircases. I heard Glinda behind me, but I couldn't stop. I kept going until I found myself in the attic. Glinda threw herself in after me and I slammed the door.

"Elphaba!" she shrieked at me.

"Ssh! I have to block the door," I told her, and hastily thrust a broom through the handle.

"What the _hell _is the matter with you?" asked Glinda. "You have screwed this up so badly. You can still have it, you know," she added, after a moment. "Just apologize."

"No!" I yelled at her. "I can't _believe _you! 'Thank you, Your Ozness. Let me lick your boots, Your Ozness. Oh, isn't there a carpet on the floor, Your Ozness? Well just let me lie down, Lurline forbid Your Ozness' feet touch the ground!'" I mocked in a hideous, exaggerated parody of her.

"Elphie!" Glinda looked as if I'd slapped her. "Just, please, say you're sorry." she pleaded. "You'll have all of it…everything you ever wanted."

My heart leapt at it, for a moment.

"No," I said sadly, then with more conviction: "No! I wouldn't take it now, not for anything. It isn't what I wanted, Glinda," I said softly. "_He _isn't."

_Fiyero: _

_After what felt like hours, I saw Madame Morrible- what the _hell_?- appear on a balcony in the palace. _

"_Citizens of Oz," she said, confusing me deeply- what was she doing?- "There is an enemy that must be found and captured! Believe nothing she says." _

_Alarms went off in my head. _What did you _do_, Elphaba? _It was Elphaba. I knew it from the sinking feeling in my stomach. "Responsible for the mutilation of these poor, innocent monkeys!" Morrible pulled out a winged monkey, shrieking, from behind her. I winced. Elphaba couldn't have done that. _Not on purpose, _a small voice nagged me. _But on accident…

_Morrible went on: "Her green skin is but an outward manifestation of her twisted nature." _Oh, _shit_, Elphaba! _I thought, _what have you _done_?

"_This…distortion," Morrible continued, face going purple, "this repulsion…this…WICKED WITCH!" _

_Oh, no. No no no. Getting home on a train was going to be _hell_, I thought. The idea that Elphaba had actually done anything to deserve this never crossed my mind. _

Elphaba:

"Don't be afraid," said Glinda softly.

"I'm _not_," I insisted. "It's the Wizard who ought to be afraid."

"Elphaba, _please_," begged Glinda. "Please, just say your sorry, for Lurline's sake!"

"No!" I responded. "I won't! I haven't done anything wrong. I'm different now, Glinda. I'm not playing by their rules anymore." I stared out the window, at Madame Morrible spreading even more hatred for me, taking a match and setting the already prepared kindling alight, then fueling it with gasoline.

_Don't believe her, Fiyero…please…_

"I can't second guess myself now," I whispered. "It's too late. I just have to trust myself…" I turned to Glinda, a plan forming quickly. "Remember that lesson in life sciences, about tropisms?" I asked urgently. Glinda looked at me like I was mad.

"Yes, but…"

"Gravitropism…" I flipped the book back open to the levitation spell. "A recipe for change," I muttered, recalling the Wizard's words.

"Elphaba, _no! _What's wrong with you?" demanded Glinda.

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong! Something's very, very right!" I cackled like an insane person. Maybe I was one.

"Ah may, ah tay, ah tum ditum…" I repeated the chant, over and over.

"STOP IT!" yelled Glinda. "That's what caused all this!"

I finished the spell and stopped, bracing myself for the pain in my shoulder blades, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nothing.

Slowly, I opened one eye, then the other. I bit my lip, anticipating unbearable agony, but nothing happened.

"Well?" said Glinda, a tad smugly, "Where are your wings? Maybe you're not as powerful as you thought."

The guards began to bang at the door, yelling something about a battering ram. I sat back and hugged my knees, tears forming at the corners of my eyes. What was I thinking? That I, me, all alone, could stand against the most powerful man there _was_? He had armies and spies and weapons and the resources of an entire country; I had an old book, a ridiculous hat and possibly Fiyero and Glinda. Possibly.

But then I noticed a small movement out of the corner of my eye. The broom I'd used to barricade the door floated into the air, towards me. Hope filled me up again and brought me, grinning strangely, not myself, to my feet.

"See, Glinda!" I cried, "I did it, I did it! I told you I could do it!"

She gasped and backed away as the broom floated into the comfortable grasp of my palm. I clutched the worn wood. It felt alive in my hands. Suddenly, colorful and chaotic masses of thoughts swirling in my head, I turned to Glinda.

"Come with me," I said. "Please, just think…together, we could…"

"Do anything," she finished. "We could, couldn't we?" She sounded like she was talking to herself.

"Yes!" I cried. "Please, you're my best friend…" _Only friend_. Desperation began to fill me.

"I-I can't." she said, turning away. I had known, really, that it was too much to ask. Glinda simply wasn't an outlaw, a fugitive, a revolutionary. It just wasn't in her character, to be. _But it could be…_

She pulled a cloak from a musty trunk and draped it over me.

"Here, take it," she said, trying her best to soften the blow of her refusal. She'd done things like this before- like with the hat. I thought maybe her childhood hadn't been so ideal, either; maybe her parents had taught her to replace love and affection and their presence with things.

But I had no more time to think. Suddenly, the door splintered.

_Oh, shit. _

I grabbed the Grimmerie and the broomstick and ran behind a pile of old boxes, until I found myself beneath a skylight. I could hear Glinda shrieking for the guards to let her go. I took a deep breath, tucked the Grimmerie under my arm, and grabbed hold of the broom.

"It's not her you want," I yelled, projecting my voice beyond the boxes. "She's got nothing to do with it. It's me!" I laughed, at the truth of it. _When people see me, they will scream! _Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it. But this was me, only me. It was purely Elphaba, nothing and no one else. It was my game, my rules, on my terms, for once in my life.

I began to rise, cackling madly as I did. "It's me! It's me! It's meeeeeeeee!" I could see them now, staring.

_Dark stale still air around me, luminescent…me, nothing but a crescendo of chords, singing my triumph…_my vision!

I laughed again at their faces below me, petrified! Trained elite soldiers, frightened to the point of wetting themselves by a single, slender, eighteen-year-old girl who couldn't even throw a softball twelve yards in the right direction!

"So if you care to find me," I yelled, "Look to the western sky!" I flew higher and higher, positioning the Grimmerie above my head to break the glass. "I'm defying gravity!" I screamed as glass shattered above me, and I rose up, over the city, free.

_Fiyero: _

_I saw her burst like a giant, suicidal bird straight through the top of the building, half-singing, half-shouting as she ascended triumphantly to the sky, silhouetted against the brilliant sunset like storybook pictures of witches framed against the moon. Without a moment's hesitation, I took off on foot after her, elbowing people out of the way as I craned my neck uncomfortably up to the sky. A half-mile out of the city, when my head felt like it was about to fall off, she swooped down and alighted, nearly falling on me and tumbling gracelessly into a heap on the ground. _

"_Ow," she said, smiling as she stood, euphoria emanating from her almost palpably. That was an Elphaba description, I thought. She was influencing _me_. Wonder what Morrible'd say about that, now? _

"_Hi," I said awkwardly. _

"_Hi," she responded, laughing. She came over to me, the expression on her face slipping from radiant happiness to vulnerable bemusement. "You…you followed me," she said. "You didn't believe them. You...came."_

"_I had to," I told her simply. "I love you." _


	17. Thinking and Doing

**A/N: For Kennedy Leigh Morgan- Glinda POV at the beginning. Damn finals. Damn them to hell. I have spent very nearly seven hours studying since school ended and I am about to expire, and that's all I'll say about that. I'm sorry if the beginning of Elphaba's POV is a bit choppy, I rewrote it about five times vacillating between what exactly it was they had done and I finally decided that they hadn't had sex because I didn't think Elphaba would have been ready for that because she has "deep-seated irrational fears of intimacy and trust" that she's not quite over yet. I know it's rather short, but…finals. And besides, the last one was long! **

**Disclaimer: Come now, haven't you gotten it by now? **

_Glinda: Caricatures are so very easy to make, and hard to forget. For example, who would ever guess that the Wicked Witch of the West loves the smell of geraniums, the feel of grass on her skin, old books (though who knows why?) Who would guess that she is often afraid of things the rest of us can't understand, that she cries in her sleep for her mother, that at long stretches she stares into space and you know she is thinking of her mother and her sister? That when she hears yelling, for a moment there comes a look of stark fear on her face, of her father, and she looks so very _young_, but only for a moment, and then she is herself again? _

_She is not one-dimensional; no human is. We are all good and evil both, or neither at all. She taught me that._

_She has made me think, really think, for the first time ever. Fiyero, too. _

_But he went with her, and I did not. And I don't know why. _

_The guards led me downstairs after we all came out of our shock at seeing Elphie fly out of the roof like- like a bat out of hell, I guess you'd say. They took me back to the Wizard and Madame Morrible. I wasn't really sure what was going on, I guess. I was still stunned, the way only someone who knew Elphie and who saw her fly off like that could be. Madame Morrible repeated that speech to me, but more sweetly, and she and the Wizard offered me the job that, I suppose, was to have been Elphie's, once I graduated. It made me ache and want to scream and shout and cry to think of going back to Shiz and sleeping alone in the room that was Elphie's too, even though just a few months ago I'd have jumped up and down with joy at the idea. _

_She changed us all, so much, whether we realized it or not. _

_And I missed her so much I couldn't think. My head was a light cloudy thing full of air. _

"_And this is new?" Elphie would have said, smiling so I knew she didn't mean it. _

_I took the job. _

Elphaba:

The next morning I awoke in Fiyero's arms, innocently, in our underclothes, with, for one, the utterly anachronistic feeling of being unclothed, even just partially, outside_. It doesn't make sense, really_, I thought, stretching like a contented cat in the sun, _outside is nature; nakedness is the natural state of things. We're so conditioned it makes me sick. _

But I couldn't really work up a rant. I was too happy and I felt like my abdomen was full of air and light and could pull me right up off the ground, if I let it. I smiled and let myself snuggle back down into the crook of Fiyero's elbow, under the light covering of the cloak, onto the surprisingly soft pine needles and considered my other feeling.

Absolute contentedness and yet a deep, nagging worry, but then I always seem to have to be worried about something. I suppose it's my natural state.

But I really did have something to be worried about, I remembered as the events of the past day floated back to me, something important. What the hell were we going to _do_!

But beside me, Fiyero stirred a bit, and it was as if the rest of my personality and all my fears and demons and irrational idiosyncrasies flew right back to their places. Incredibly quickly, I yanked myself up and dressed faster than I knew was possible.

"Fae?" asked Fiyero, waking up. I stayed turned and plaited my hair rapidly, my hands tensing and pulling too hard. "What are you…?"

"No," I said calmly, though within I was anything but calm. Where before it had been airy lightness, my stomach was now a churning pit of mingled, awful, emotion. "No, no, no, no. It didn't happen. _Nothing _happened, no, no, no…" I sat down on the ground and curled up as small as I could make myself. "_No_."

"But," Fiyero sounded puzzled, "We didn't even…I mean, all we really did was kiss."

"A lot," I said. "Differently. I-I…" I trailed off. "I let you in too far."

"What?"

"I can't…I can't do this," I said. "It's not right, it's not fair, I'm going to be arrested or killed or- or- something like that, and you shouldn't have to go with me. You didn't do anything."

"Neither did you," said Fiyero, coming over to me. "All you did was leave. You had the right to. You weren't a prisoner."

I thought about it a moment.

"Ha," I said, laughing oddly in a release of tension, "you're right. They'd even convinced _me _I'd done at least something worse than …leave." I began to laugh harder. "All of Oz is deathly afraid of me, now, because I…_left_!"

I stopped, then. "No," I said softly. "I hurt the monkeys…"

"What happened?" asked Fiyero. "I know you didn't do it on purpose. You couldn't have…"

"The Wizard…he asked me to prove myself," I said slowly. "Madame Morrible handed me an ancient spell book, in another language…but I could read it, I could! It was so strange…the Wizard told me his monkey servant had always wanted to fly, and asked me to perform and levitation spell…" I stopped and involuntarily started to cry a little. "I didn't know…" I turned back to Fiyero, who was listening intently. "It was awful," I said. "His back- oh, sweet Lurline- it twisted up and ripped open, and the tendons and ligaments and muscles all twisted together and pulled apart and he was screaming, and in agony, and then all of them, all these monkeys came out of nowhere screaming in pain-"

I looked down, and whispered, to no one and to everyone, "I am so sorry."

I felt Fiyero wrap his arms around me and pull me closer. I tensed.

"Ssh, Fae," he whispered. "For Oz sakes, I'm not going to hurt you." He looked at me. "You know that."

"I know," I said. "That's not what I'm afraid of."

"What is?" he asked gently.

I looked away. "That I'm going to hurt you," I said softly.


	18. Stalemate

**A/N: So shoot me. I haven't updated and this chapter doesn't really move the plot forward. Finals and school are over, I have two tech weeks in a row- one for _The Sound of Music_ and then for _Beauty and the Beast_- so I have the theatre rehearsal schedule from hell and in addition to that I'm a chair. No, not a chair person, a chair as in sit-on-a. And the Beast is supposed to sit on me though how that's going to work I don't know since I'm about 1/5 of his size…oh. Thigmatropism is a plant's response to touch. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The dictionary definition at the end is from Webster's, characters etc. are Gregory Maguire's first and foremost and then Winnie Holzman's and Stephen Schwartz's secondarily. **

"You're not going to hurt me," he assured me. "It's all right." Carefully, he tried to touch my face. I flinched.

"Well, Miss Elphaba," he said, "Apparently you not only have a negative tropism where gravity is concerned, you have a negative thigmatropism too."

"Well, what do you expect?" I asked. "I'm a plant. A green bean, an artichoke. I do photosynthesis for all you know. I'm green, aren't I?"

Fiyero snorted.

"Well, if I _do _have chlorophyll, I should at _least _get the benefits of it."

He started laughing full out.

"Oh, shut up," I said.

"I'm not laughing _at_ you," he tried to explain. "Well, I am- but it's because you're funny."

"I'm not funny, Fiyero," I said. "I'm a cynical sardonic bitch. There's a difference."

"You are not, you just like the idea of being one."

"No, I don't. It's not something I _like_. It's a shell, a hard protective casing, nothing more and nothing less."

He kissed me, long and deep and slow.

"You don't need it," he told me then.

"Yes, well-" I turned away. "Let's go- find somewhere to stay, shall we?"

He gave me a look.

"Elphaba-"

"Well, come on then." I got up, avoiding his eyes, and began to walk back in the direction of the city.

He followed me. I could sense him behind me. He touched my shoulder. I had braced myself for the touch, but even so I whirled on my heel instinctively to face him.

"Fae," he said.

"Please-"

"You are a good person," he told me forcefully, grabbing my shoulders.

"Fiyero-"

"No." He took my chin in his hand. "You are a good person and you are _not _going to hurt me. It's not your fault your mother died and your sister is paralyzed. It's _not_. You don't hurt people. You didn't hurt those monkeys, either. You thought you were helping. You had no way of knowing that was going to happen."

"But it still did. All of it still did." I looked up at him, tears beginning to form again. I tried to blink them away. "_Damn_. Fiyero, you had the same childhood situation as I did, why are you well-adjusted and me a screwy green mess?"

"I think it's because of my Nanny," said Fiyero. "She told me it wasn't my fault and ingrained that into me just like your dad did the opposite to you." He paused. "And I had lots of friends. I created a shallow world of entitlement for myself to try and fill in what was missing. It didn't work."

"Well, my Nanny wasn't nearly so positive," I said. "She would say, 'Miss Elphaba, you need to mind more than anyone else. If you don't learn to be obedient and to let yourself be controlled, Lurline knows who you'll slaughter next.'"

"Ouch."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"You didn't listen, though."

"Damn _straight _I didn't listen! I didn't believe _that_!"

"Good, you're not _entirely _gullible."

"Hey!"

"I don't mean it. You're not really gullible."

"Thank you," I said.

We stood facing each other, breathing hard with the residual argument and the weights of our childhoods, locked in a stalemate.

"Ah, screw it," said Fiyero, and with more speed than I thought was possible, we were kissing, more deeply and with more passion than ever before.

It was we were as if we were one being, a being of pure fire, and Elphaba and Fiyero were no longer separate but immutably intertwined. And so we were.

_Stalemate: Any situation in which a player cannot move; a draw; any deadlock_.

Oh, yes. This definitely qualified as a stalemate.


	19. Conversation In All Its Forms

**A/N: I'm really sorry I left this story for a while! So I wrote this like two days ago…and didn't type it. Whoops. Doesn't help that my internet has decided to flip out at random intervals. I hoped to make Glinda's confusion somewhat like what happened after the meeting in the book about "Adeptness." **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

Before we could find the Resistance, they found us. Life, or fate, or whatever, decided to be kind to me. It's fickle like that, I guess.

We hadn't actually reentered the city yet when a teenage boy and girl came barreling out of the city gate and straight into us. All four of us went toppling and nearly hit a tree on our way down.

"What the-" began Fiyero, but the boy hushed him and shoved us behind a tree as a coterie of Gale Forcers came running past the gate. They, however, turned around and ran down an alleyway, still inside the city gates.

"Thanks," said the girl. Then she noticed me. "Sweet Oz, you're-"

"Green? I hadn't noticed. Thanks for the heads-up," I responded sarcastically.

"No! Well, yes, you are, but you're the one they're looking for! The witch!" exclaimed the girl.

"Well, not really," I said, oddly not worried. "If I were really a witch I could have fixed those monkeys."

The girl poked the boy.

"_Told _you she didn't mean to do it," she said. I gave them a look.

"Who _are _you?" I asked.

"I'm Boden," said the boy, "and this is my twin sister, Mirka."

They did indeed look like twins, with pale blonde hair and identical sets of navy blue eyes. They also looked _young_ to warrant a troop of the secret police chasing after them. Well, then again, I supposed Fiyero and I did too.

"How old are you?" I asked. Mirka grinned.

"Sixteen last Monday," she said.

"And why, may I ask, is the Gale Force chasing you?" enquired Fiyero.

The two of them looked at each other, then at me.

"Because," Boden said finally, "we're members of the Resistance."

"We thought it was safe to tell you," Mirka added. "You know, my enemy's enemy is my friend."

"That and mutually assured destruction," muttered Boden, who seemed to be the more cynical of the two.

I grinned. "Mirka," I said, "we would be delighted to join you."

…

**Glinda: **

**Somehow, Madame Morrible arrived back at Shiz before me, just as she had arrived in the City before we had. She said she was staying on to finish up one more class's years at Shiz before she left. Mine. **

**I was afraid of her. After what had happened in the city, my view of things had changed. The Wizard and Madame Morrible tried to tell me that Elphaba and anyone who associated with her was evil. **

**I guessed they had to be right. If they were wrong, they wouldn't be running Oz. **

**Right? **

**It was hardly my place to question them (and I could just imagine what Elphie would say to me if I said that!). But I must have been an idiot, because I couldn't for the life of me see what Elphie had done wrong! I mean, she'd hurt the monkeys, but not on purpose. Or had she? Everything had happened so fast- I was so confusified! **

**Madame Morrible gave a speech when she returned. **

"**My dear students, it has recently been revealed that we had held a budding traitor in our midst. Miss Elphaba Thropp, unfortunately, followed Miss Galinda- oh, it's Glinda now, that's right- to the Emerald City and when she heard Miss Glinda offered a job, she burst out with a fit of jealousy and mutilated a band of monkeys serving in the Palace, poor innocent dears." **

**That wasn't what had happened. Was it? I found I couldn't remember. My head was cloudy and foggy and the whole thing was slipping away from me. **

**After her speech, Madame Morrible called me into her office. **

"**Now, Miss Glinda," she said. "I assure you that none of Miss Elphaba's treasonous behavior reflects in any way on you in the Wizard's eyes. In fact, he himself would like to offer you a job when you graduate." **

"**Really?" I asked with some actual enthusiasm. _Wait, he's offering me a job now…then how…? _**

"**Yes. Provided, of course, that you- ahem- retain your…demureness…regarding that unfortunate meeting in the Emerald City." **

**I had no idea what she had just said. I knew I understood the words, but their meaning just wasn't penetrating the fog in my head. I began to get a vague grasp of it…**

"**Yes," I said, because I couldn't think of anything else. And look what had happened to Elphie when she had turned down a job offer from the Wizard! But…had that been for her, or for me? Was Madame Morrible just clarifying the details of it now?**

"**Very good," sang out Madame Morrible, pleased with herself. "Now, Mr. Tiggular. Do you know where he has gone? It would be _very _like him to have left himself in a bar in the city and not to come out for a week or more." **

"**No, he's probably with Elphaba," I blurted before I could stop myself. "He really loves her. He really does." **


	20. The Way Things Go

**A/N: I know it's been a long time. I know this is short. But there is a huge plot twist coming up and it'll make up for this short chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

Mirka and Boden led us through alleys and side streets until we reached a small grimy building on the outskirts of the city

"Here's our headquarters," said Mirka. Fiyero grabbed my hand and held it; I flinched at the unexpected touch.

A tall man emerged from an unobtrusive door at the front of the building.

"Mirka, Boden!" he called. "Who have you brought with you? You _know _the rules. You _know _you're supposed to-"

"She's the witch, Vendran," said Mirka. "The one they're after." I was getting really tired of that introduction. Although in all fairness, I hadn't told them my name. He scrutinized me.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I said.

He roughly ran his hand down my cheek and then examined the hand.

"Hey!" said Fiyero. "What the hell?"

"You're really green," said Vendran, ignoring Fiyero.

"Why would I _choose _to look like this?" I asked.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

I hesitated. "Fae," I said finally, "and this is Yero. I know he's on our side."

"And which side is that?" asked Vendran.

I looked him in the eye.

"The side of freedom."

He nodded appraisingly and led us inside.

…

Later, Mirka and Boden brought us to another building.

"Here's where you'll be staying," chirped Mirka, and I felt a pang low in my stomach. The girl's ineffable cheerfulness reminded me painfully of Glinda and everything I left behind. But snarky Boden brought me out of my reverie.

"There's one bed," said Boden. He smirked. "I assume that's okay?"

"Do you have some sick masochistic desire for intense pain and agony?" I asked him, taking a menacing step forward.

"Fae," said Fiyero, cutting me off. He turned to Boden. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Boden's smirk disappeared. He handed Fiyero the key and they were gone.

…

"You don't have to sleep on the floor," I told Fiyero inside. "I will."

"It's freezing cold!"

"Exactly!"

It could have developed into a real quarrel, but fortunately it didn't.

"Elphie," said Fiyero gently, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Damn it, I'm not afraid of you, we have _been _over this!"

"I'm sorry." I felt his hand on my shoulder.

We embraced for a long moment and then sat down on the bed together.

"I'm still in shock," I admitted.

"I know." He laughed. "I didn't expect to finish at Shiz, but I thought I'd be kicked out, never that I'd leave to go fight injustice with- with-"

"With- who, Fiyero?"

"With someone I really love."


	21. No

**A/N: I'm a very bad person who had this written earlier but didn't post it…whoops. "Flabby fat and lazy, you come in and whoopsy-daisy!" –Does "Be Our Guest" Lumiere/Babette tango alone- . And to my surprise, 'inventorying' is actually a word and it's actually spelled that way. Wow.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

We slept as we had in the forest- innocently in the same place, awakening tangled together, sometimes embarrassingly so. However, I usually woke first, which was fortunate given the bit of aversion I still had about being touched, and I still refused to be touched at all in public and probably always would.

A few weeks passed in this way. I felt ill-used, not having been assigned to do anything against the Wizard, yet I got the feeling he was looking for me. Why I could not begin to guess at. I hadn't done anything truly awful, yet with my very public exit, I supposed he had had no choice but to make me a symbol or chance revealing his true evil plans. Not that the majority of the apathetic Ozian population would probably even _care_. But still, I thought he was searching for me. There were wanted posters, and Gale Forcers patrolling more often than usual, and as it turned out I was right. Horribly right.

I came home late one night from my assignment of inventorying a newly arrived shipment of weapons. The cold gun-metal turned my stomach. I hadn't told Vendran or the twins about my magical abilities- in fact, I downright lied about them. I said it was just a nasty rumor, given to hide the fact that an unarmed eighteen-year-old girl had escaped the Wizard's guards.

I opened the door. Fiyero had been sent home earlier than I that evening, and I hoped he had found us something edible.

"Fiyero," I called. "Fiyero, where are you?"

I got no answer and began to panic. I fumbled to get the old fashioned kerosene lamp on.

He wasn't there- but there was no blood or corpse either. Then my eye caught a paper laying on the bed, weighted with a pen. There were words on it that I couldn't make out from this distance, but I didn't need to go closer. The large seal on the paper told me all I needed to know.

The Gale Force had taken Fiyero.

Before I could even think, I was out of the building and halfway down the street, sprinting towards the Palace, my rapid steps keeping time with my flurrying heart. I ran, fortunately still with my cloak over my head. People were staring anyway- a hooded girl running unpursued through the streets was apparently cause for concern. I ran up the Palace's imposing stone steps and pounded on the dark wood doors, tears pouring down my face.

A guard opened the door.

"Miss, you'll need an appoint-"

I pulled off my hood and he gasped.

"No," I said, "What I _need _is to see the Wizard. _Now. _If he's busy, you can tell him I said he should have the hell thought of that before he sent you idiots to kidnap Fiyero. And yes, since I don't happen to recognize the authority of your government I'll call it kidnapping if I damn well want to!"

The guard backed away, frightened by not only my being me, but also my hysteria. I pushed in and he didn't stop me- he was probably afraid to touch me.

"Where is he?" I screamed once I had passed through the entrance hall. "Tell me where the hell he is!"

A young man who appeared to work in some sort of office somewhere mutely pointed – apparently no one was going to arrest me, this was easier than I had expected- and I burst into the throne room.

"I am Oz, the Great and-"

"Oh, shove it up your ass!" I responded.

"Elphaba?" he asked, coming out from behind the head. He smiled cruelly. "I've been expecting you."

"Let him go," I said, trying desperately to hold in my impending sobs.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. He's a member of a terrorist organization. That's treason. He'll be executed-"

"No! Please! I'll do anything!" My knees buckled and I fell to the floor sobbing unashamedly.

His smile grew wider.

"Anything?"

"Yes." I looked up. "I'll read your spells. I'll do whatever you want. Just- please- let him go."

"Guards!" the Wizard yelled. Two of them entered. "Bring me the prisoner Fiyero Tiggular." They exited, and the Wizard turned his cold blue gaze on me. "You thought you could stand against me," he sneered. "You thought you and your ideals were strong enough! Well, were they? _Were _they?" he screamed. "Answer me!"

I took in great gasping gulps of air.

"Answer!" he screamed, and kicked at me. "I'll kill him!"

"No," I said, and the sobs broke through again, giving him satisfaction. I wiped at them and tried with every ounce of control I still had to act as if they burned me. I couldn't give up the safety net of my 'weakness,' too.

Finally, the guards brought Fiyero back in.

"You'll do it," the Wizard said. It was not a question. I nodded, the flow of my tears stemming a bit, and reached into my bag for the Grimmerie.

"Elphaba, don't do it!" yelled Fiyero.

"No," I cried, "no, no, no, no, no, he can't do this, I won't let him, he can't take you away from me too, Fiyero, I love you, not you too, no!" I was dimly aware that I wasn't making any sense, and suddenly a strange pervasive sense of resigned calm came over me.

"Which spell?" I asked the Wizard calmly, my tears suddenly staunched completely. He showed me. I didn't ask what it would do. I didn't want to know.

I read it. I read the words but I thought just one phrase, over and over. _Let me do no harm, let me do no harm, let me do no harm, let me do no harm, let me do no harm, let _this _do no harm…_

I focused myself completely and totally on that once phrase, devoting all of my magic power and willpower to it, even as I read the words for him. When I finished, I collapsed at the release of energy and the intensity of my focus.

The Wizard nodded to the guards, and the released Fiyero, who ran to my side.

"I'm…all right," I murmured.

"Now, you'll stay here," the Wizard began.

"No." Fiyero's voice was cold and sharp and insurmountably fierce. "I am taking her home. She is exhausted and if you keep her here, doing this constantly, she'll die, and then where will you be? She has done what you asked and she will keep doing what you ask, but not now and not here. You can find her at our home, since you obviously know where it is and have no problem coming in uninvited."

He helped me to my feet.

"Carry me and die," I hissed under my breath.

"Sorry, Fae," he said, grinning as he lifted me almost effortlessly into the air and carried me outside unimpeded.

…

We knew, of course, that we had to leave our little room, but we decided to stay there one more night, seeing as how we had no idea where we were going to go.

The moment we walked in and Fiyero set me down, I was kissing him.

"Elphaba," Fiyero breathed, sensing the decision I had made, the new foothold I would allow him (hopefully not literally), "are you sure?"

I looked him in the eye.

"Fiyero, my dearly beloved," I said as I unbuttoned his shirt agonizingly slowly, "Do you take me, Elphaba Thropp, to be your wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death do us part?"

He looked solemnly at me, understanding without words all I was doing and why.

"I do."

I opened myself to him, and let him unbutton the top of my dress as he spoke.

"Elphaba," he said in a whisper, "Do you take me, Fiyero, to be your husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death do us part?"

"I do," I whispered back as I stepped out of my dress and he out of his pants. "And now, by the power vested in me as a 'wicked witch,' I now pronounce us husband and wife."

And so we were, and so we acted accordingly.


	22. That Went Well

**A/N: I have been really lazy in updating, I handwrote this two days ago but got distracted before typing it.**

**Disclaimer: _Wicked_ est a Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, pas a moi. **

I woke up feeling warm and purely happy with a sweet soreness in my abdomen.

"Mmm," I groaned, pulling myself out of sleep as events flowed back to me in reverse order.

First came a great, all-encompassing, sense of happiness. Then, dread and worry.

"Yero," I whispered, shaking him out awake gently.

"Uhn…wha…hi," said Fiyero, smiling.

"We have to get out of here," I said, panic mounting. "I can't do another spell for him, I can't, I can't do more harm, we have to go!"

Fiyero still looked half asleep. "Go where?"

"I don't know, I don't know, just out of _here_!" I yelled. I was up and pulling my dress on, throwing things into bags. "Get up!"

"All right, all right," Fiyero said, pulling on his pants. "Where are we going?"

"I have no idea, I just know we have to get out of here!"

More awake now, Fiyero looked up, hesitantly.

"We could…go to my father's castle," he said. "The one he actually lives in."

"Good idea." He walked over to the crate where we kept our clothes, and I followed. "Wait…how many castles do you _have_?"

…

Outside the gate of the huge castle, a thought struck me for the first time.

"Fiyero," I said. He turned.

"Yeah?"

"What if- I mean, your father's probably not going to like me. At all. And you've disappeared, too- is he going to let us in?"

Fiyero looked grim.

"One, my father can go to hell. Two, he _will _let us in. He _has _to." In direct contrast with his words, Fiyero tried to open the gate and it refused to yield. He clanged on it in frustration. "Hello?" he called into the courtyard.

"Here, let me." I reached into my bag for the Grimmerie and it opened automatically to a short unlocking spell. "_Patefacio is nolens porta, addo nos ut nostrum fortuna_."

The gate swung open. Fiyero gave a low whistle.

"Nice."

"You have not yet even begun to explore the scope of my talents."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" asked Fiyero, grinning.

I groaned. "Come _on_."

We hurried up to the doors.

"Can you spell these, too?" asked Fiyero.

"D-O-O-R-S. No, I'm not breaking into your father's castle, Yero, magically or otherwise."

"It was worth a try."

"And _what _a first impression that would make. _Knock_."

Fiyero groaned and did so.

A short man in an odd robe answered the door. I quickly drew the hood of my cloak further over my face.

"Master Fiyero!" he gasped. "You're- you're- you're _alive_?"

"Of course I am, Conall," Fiyero proclaimed heartily. "And this is my wife."

"Wife!" gasped Conall. I pulled off the hood for a moment.

"Hi."

"She's…she's green."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," said Fiyero. His tone remained friendly, but with a sharp edge indicating that no further discussion of the matter would be tolerated. I smiled and pulled the hood back up.

"I'm Elphaba Thropp," I said.

"She's the daughter of the governor of Munchkinland."

I gave Fiyero a _'So what?' _look. He tried to raise one eyebrow, but failed. I raised my own brow slowly and deliberately, tilting my head beneath the hood so he could see.

"Now you're against titles?" he whispered as Conall led us down a hallway.

"I've _always _been against titles and the innate, unqualified superiority they stand for, and besides which I haven't even got one. 'The governor's daughter' doesn't count," I whispered back. "Besides, titles are pointless. They guarantee the ruling class wealth and impunity, and as their bearers are not held accountable to the will of the people, they do nothing for the greater good-" suddenly I remembered exactly who I was talking to and flushed deeply. "Present company excluded, of course."

"Don't exclude until you've met my father, who may disinherit me anyway for running off, so…just don't mention that to him, all right?" I gave him a look.

"I'm not _stupid_, Fiyero!"

"No, you're brilliant and impulsive and passionate and I adore you for it, but my father won't share my views-on you, fortunately in some ways, nor on anything else."

"I'll behave. I promise."

Conall opened the grand wooden doors to what appeared to be Inteus Tiggular's study.

A tall, imposing man, who with his graying sandy hair and piercing blue eyes _had _to be related to Fiyero, stood to greet us. But that was as warm as our welcome got.

"Fiyero," said Inteus tightly, "As you can imagine, I am absolutely furious with you, and you owe me several explanations. But first…" his eyes lighted on me. "Who the hell is this?"

"Father," said Fiyero, "this is my wife, Elphaba Thropp. She is the daughter of the governor of Munchkinland. Before you say anything, we will of course be willing to repeat our vows publicly and more-" he coughed slightly- "formally- but Elphaba is my wife, Father, and I love her. I said I would stand by her until death, Father, and I meant it."

Inteus' face grew red. "You not only _run away _from yet _another_ university and _disappear _for more than a month, but you come back with a _wife_ from Lurline knows where who-" he paused abruptly and turned to me. "Take off your hood," he said suspiciously.

"Remember what I said, Father," cautioned Fiyero. I did as I had been bid and took of my hood.

For a long moment, there was miraculous silence.

"She's…green," said Igneus. Fiyero knew better than to use flip sarcasm on his dad- and amazingly so did I.

"Yes," I said, looking his father in the eye, "I am."

Igneus' blue eyes, identical for Fiyero's but that there was no love in them, only cold calculation, stared me down.

Igneus turned to Fiyero. "The formal ceremony will be in three weeks."

Fiyero barely managed to contain the grin I could see forming in his eyes.

"Yes, Father," said Fiyero, barely managing to keep his face straight until we were out of the doors and out of earshot, which was when he grinned, whooped, and then picked me up and spun me around.

"Never do that again," I told him.

"I won't," he promised, that huge endearing grin never for one moment leaving his face.

…

That night, lying comfortably and utterly safely in Fiyero's arms, with the prospect of an actual wedding in three weeks, and for once no danger in sight, I smiled contentedly- no, _happily_- and lost myself to sleep completely.

My last conscious thought was a wish that life could always be so good.


	23. I Couldn't Be Happier

**A/N: Sorry…wow…forgot about this story for awhile. –winces. Ow. More tomatoes.- **

**Also, Fiyero's father's name is Igneus, not Inteus. I handwrote it, then I typed it and didn't focus…sorry, I'll fix it later. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

_Glinda: _

_I've been trying not to think about it lately. 'It' being _them, _of course. Elphie and Fiyero. Madame Morrible tells me they're probably dead, and I should think of them that way, and not mourn them, either, for they were wicked and treasonous and deserved whatever they got. _

_That's why I was so shocked today. I went to Madame Morrible's office- we both of us are almost done with Shiz- to get my mail, and I found a creamy, pale green envelope mixed in with the letters from graduated friends and Momsie and Popsicle. The lettering on the front was black calligraphy, in a vaguely familiar, spidery hand. _

_Not believing the first thought that leapt to my mind, I ripped the envelope open. _

_**Dear Glinda, **it read. In another, rougher, hand was inscribed **Miss Glinda Upland of the Upper Uplands,**_

**_Igneus Tiggular cordially requests your presence to celebrate the marriage of his son, Fiyero Nayan Tiggular to Elphaba Casandra Thropp, at Kiamo Salene, on the thirteenth day of this month._**

**_Please arrive prepared to stay for several days, and remember; the journey there and back is about four days long one way. Please pack accordingly. _**

_Then, in a less thick pen but the same pretty writing was a message for me: _

**_Glinda: I'm sorry we haven't contacted you, but it wasn't safe. Morrible knows we're alive, so does the Wizard, but you _MUST NOT _tell ANYONE_ _that we've written to you or anything else. Please. I am trusting you with our safety- with our lives. Take that as you will, do with it what you will, but please, Glinda…don't tell anyone. _**

_**Elphaba**_

**Next week was the last week of school. I was going. I wasn't sure yet whether I was angry, or happy, or what, but when I saw them, I would know. **

**Besides, if I couldn't have Fiyero…ooh, maybe he had a cute cousin or something. **

…

**Three weeks later…**

"Unh…" I groaned, waking slowly and curling a proprietary arm over Fiyero. "Hi." He moaned and turned his head away.

"No…sleep…"

"Come on, Yero," I said, "it's our wedding day. The formal one."

"We got married, why d'we have to do it again?" he moaned sleepily.

"Because we did, but not _officially_. Let alone _formally_. And your father's going to get mad if we don't. It's his condition for letting us stay here, remember? You're a prince, you need to have a big state wedding. Apparently."

"Can we have sex afterwards?" he asked.

"You are _such _a male."

"Well…yeah…"

I sighed. "Yes. After the reception. So get up, we have to get ready."

Fiyero grabbed me into a kiss. "I have a better idea," he said. "Let's play first." I slapped him gently.

"No!" I leapt over him and onto the floor. "We have to get ready. _Come on_, Yero- I don't want to deal with all these people, but I _do _want to see Glinda, I _don't _want your father to hate us, and, above all-" I gave him a bright, genuine smile, "I want to marry you."

He smiled back. "Well, then, let's get ready!"

…

Reader, I married him. Again. Fiyero's father hadn't allowed me to have anything to do with the planning, or Fiyero to have much of it, and I suspected his old nanny, Denedra, had had more to do with it than anyone, but I was far from complaining. Flowers, dresses…bleck. I'd rather be dodging bullets, thank you. But the dress Denedra had found, or probably even sewed, now that I think about it, was amazing. I didn't think dresses actually had any redeeming qualities other than to cover oneself, but, like the one Glinda had given me to wear to Fiyero's party, my wedding gown proved me wrong.

Instead of being white, the dress was a light creamy color- am I actually going to waste time _describing _it? Yes...- and it was simple, long and flowing, without any scratchy hoopskirts or anything like that. There was a small embroidered design of two leaves and a small, simple flower at the top of the dress and along the hem, and it had thin spaghetti-straps for sleeves. I couldn't help but gasp when I saw it.

"It's- it's- it's-"

"Perfect?" supplied Glinda, who had arrived the day before.

"Yes, exactly. _More _than perfect. Thank you so much, Denedra," I said, hugging the old woman.

"Oh, it's nothing, Princess Elphaba," she said, but she was beaming with pleasure. I frowned slightly.

"Denedra, you know what I said. Call me _Elphaba_," I stressed.

"Oh, but I can't, it's your title."

"Please, Denedra? It makes me uncomfortable. It's not who I am."

She smiled. "It will be," she said, and left the room. I sank down onto a chair and groaned. Glinda perched on the chair's arm and grinned deviously at me.

"Oh, _what_?" I moaned.

"Aw, what's the matter, Princess?" she asked.

"Don't mess with people who can throw you, Glinda, especially if they can throw you without using their hands."

"Sorry, Elphie, I couldn't resist."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Oh, what am I _doing_, Glinda? I love Fiyero and I always will, but we're _eighteen_. Should we seriously be doing this?"

Glinda moved to another chair, across the small coffee table from me.

"Well, Elphie," she said, "the way I see it is, you should. Like you said, you know you'll always love Fiyero, and I know- I know he loves you, and you- and him too now I guess- are just different."

"Thanks for noticing," I said sarcastically.

"No, what I mean is- you two are more mature than most people your age. You're not all giggly and boyfriend-girlfriend and into all that drama. You, definitely, Elphie, have always been older than you actually are, and Fiyero's grown up a lot too. We all have, since the day you left," she said quietly.

"Oh, Glinda," I said, walking around the table to hug her. "Thank you. You're right. You do give good advice, even if it's usually followed by-"

"_Your make-up!" _Glinda shrieked, running over to the dressing table.

"A makeover," I finished, sighing.

"Can I do it, Elphie, please, please, please?" begged Glinda, practically bouncing.

"Oh, I suppose so," I relented. She was better at it than I, anyway. "Just- _no pink_."

"Got it," cried Glinda happily, and she set to work.

I was shocked when she finished. I guessed this really _was _the happiest day of my life. Everything was turning out perfectly. She'd found lipstick of an earthy tint, but that was somehow, like my skin, complimentary to the creaminess of the dress. In the same…color family, or something. Whatever. She'd gently highlighted my cheekbones with a brownish color that made them stand out, and she'd covered my eyes in an array of shimmering browns blended together perfectly.

"Glinda…wow…I mean…I…I don't know what to say."

"Say you're beautiful, 'cause you are," Glinda told me, "and then put that on, get out there, and say 'I do!'"

"Thank you," I told her again.

…

The reception was somewhat torturous. The flowers were perfect- beautifully colorful wildflowers everywhere, which seemed to annoy Igneus (more of Denedra's doing, then) which in turn amused me. Besides which, they were pretty.

"Exotic, beautiful and untamed," said Fiyero, catching me staring at them and sliding an arm around my waist. "Just like you."

I blushed and tried to deflect the compliment. "Yes, well, your father's guests don't appear to share those thoughts," I told him.

"They're assholes." He thought a moment before improving on his insults. "That, _and _they have sticks _up _their assholes."

"Lovely imagery," I said, surveying the royals. "Thank you _so _much."

"You're welcome," Fiyero said, making an overdramatic bow. Then he put his arm back around me and led me over to the dance floor.

"Oh, no. Dancing and I don't go well together, remember?"

"Relax. You're a good dancer, I told you. It was beautiful. Glinda's was the strange one." I smiled and allowed him to lead me out into the center of the floor. "Besides," he went on, "I am going to completely ignore my relatives and my father's pompous friends and show them how my absolutely beautiful wife and I can have the time of our lives without them."

"I love you," I told him as we began to waltz. I was surprised to find myself falling easily, even gracefully, into rhythm.

"And I love _you_, my Fae," he said, and then he pulled me in to kiss me, in the middle of the dance floor with the music crescendoing, proving to the world his love for me, _me_, and I knew the saying was true. This was definitely the happiest day of my life.


	24. The Weight of the World

**A/N: makes shifty eyes Yeah…it's been awhile, huh? -dodges tomatoes- **

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

"Wow," said Fiyero, "that was…amazing." I smiled and lay my head against him happily. With a nod of my head, I let him play with my hair for the first time. That was one of the nicest things about being married, I decided. Not the hair-playing, but having a special and private place in which to do it.

Fiyero jerked me out of my thoughts with a question.

"Fae…"

"Yes?"

"I've just wondered…why did you do that little wedding ceremony, in the Emerald City, before you would…"

I didn't let him finish.

"Because," I said. "It was what I needed to bind us, so that I could be free- so that I could feel safe." I admitted this without looking at him, then quietly turned up my face to look at his. Not that he was all that much taller than me, but he was sitting up while I was kind of sprawled up against him.

"Elphaba," said Fiyero, pulling me upwards and closer to him, "You don't ever have to feel scared with me-"

"I'm _not _scared," I said. "We've _talked _about this."

"All right then," said Fiyero. "But still. You can always feel safe with me. I'll never turn on you or hurt you or hate you."

"I know," I said, and kissed him. "I love you."

And then, well. I'm sure you can guess.

…

"Did you two get any sleep last night?" asked Glinda, smiling knowingly, as Fiyero and I wandered into the kitchen in search of food.

"What do you _think_?" Fiyero asked, sliding his arm around my waist.

"Hey, sarcasm is my job," I said.

"And slightly dirty remarks are mine," replied Fiyero, and kissed me.

"_Slightly_?" Glinda and Denedra asked at the same time. Glinda snorted. I shot her a somewhat deadly look.

"Glinda, I think there are some things we need to talk about," I said suddenly, as the realization that she had something to tell me swept over me. I knew what she was thinking, what she had thought. _Oh, sweet Lurline_. Glinda sobered and became more serious than any present had ever seen her.

"I agree," she said.

…

I led Glinda into the other room.

"You believed them," I hissed furiously. "You listened to them, you thought they were right, you _let _them manipulate you, Glinda, you're smarter than that!" I stopped my pacing and stared at Glinda, who looked as if she might well melt under the intense scrutiny. "Why are you here?" I asked suddenly, vilely. "Did you- are you-"

"I'm here because I'm your best friend," said Glinda. "I'm here because even when you do things I don't understand, like blow a hole in the roof of the Emerald City palace and go gallivanting away from everything I thought you wanted, or read my mind, or fall in love with my boyfriend, nothing can change that. I'm here because I _can't _believe you're evil, not totally, not truthfully, no matter who says it. I mean, for Lurline's sake, Elphaba, the _ruler of our country _told me personally that you're evil, and I shouldn't listen to you, but I'm here, aren't I? Aren't I?"

Stunned into silence, I nodded.

"The truth is, Elphaba," Glinda continued quietly, "you changed us. You changed _all _of us. Look at Fiyero. Look at _me_. I'm going to graduate, Elphaba, and I'm going to do it with honors because I listen now, but that's not all I do. I _question_. I don't do it out loud like you, I don't scream it from the rooftops, but I _do _it. It doesn't matter that it's only in my head, all that matters is that I just don't float through life carelessly and all-acceptingly anymore. And that's because of you."

"I-" I tried to say something, anything, but she shook her head at me.

"No. I'm not done. But then you ran away. And I didn't know what to do. They would never admit it, but neither did anyone else. Classes were nearly silent, and I realized without you, without Dr. Dillamond, either, no one was really learning anything. Well, we were, but not really. We weren't questioning anything. And I could see people exchanging looks, like they didn't know what to do if you weren't there, standing up and mouthing off. _You changed us. You changed everything. _And then you just…left," she said, and she collapsed onto the couch and sat there, staring at me.

"Glinda, I- I had to. You have to understand, I couldn't stay, not knowing what I did. And I mean really _couldn't_. What do you think they would have done? I was dangerous. I _am _dangerous to them. They knew they couldn't talk me out of it. They couldn't bribe me, I'd already refused their offer. _There was nothing I could do_." I paused, breathing hard. I was about to tell her something I'd never admitted to anyone before. "I wish I could go back!" I cried. "I wish like anything I could go back to Shiz, I could stay there, with you and Fiyero and Boq and Nessa and deal with all those little dramas and go to class and read books and sit out by the canal or in the cafés talking to you, not hiding. I wish I could graduate! I wish I could just be eighteen going on nineteen! Don't you think I would if I could? I _can't_. I _can't. _They would _kill _me, or something, but they wouldn't have to. Because going back to Shiz knowing what I know and doing _nothing _would kill me. _I did what I had to do_. I'm sorry I _had _to do it, but I'm not sorry I did it. And there's nothing anyone can do to take it all back and make it like it was before. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry for you and Nessa and everyone at Shiz, and for Fiyero, but I'm also sorry for me. _I don't want to carry the world on my shoulders anymore! God, I'm so _tired!_"

I hadn't realized I was screaming or that Fiyero and Denedra had come into the room or that I could barely breathe or that the room was spinning in circles and the ceiling was pressing on me, just like the whole damn world, and I was tired and dizzy and falling, falling, falling…


	25. The Benefits of Sleep

**A/N: Okay. So. Anyway. "The blond boy's a loser," according to the Subway Dinner Theatre guy. Yeah. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Not even the new one. My friend/partly Grey's Anatomy own her, and all but one word of the last line. **

I woke up on a couch in the same room, with Fiyero's worried face hovering over mine and Glinda's worried voice in the background.

"Elphaba?" he asked. I blinked and slowly sat up.

"I'm sorry," I told the whole group of people congregated in the room. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's probably because you don't sleep or eat," said Fiyero. "I noticed it back in the City- you went to bed late, I'm pretty sure you woke up more than once during the night to check all the locks and then pace for a while, and you woke up before I did. And you almost never ate. You'd keep leaping up from the table, or talking about things, or working, and sometimes you'd just forget altogether, and we never had that much food to begin with! I thought it would get better when we came here, and it has, a little, but you still-"

"I know, I know," I said tiredly. "I'm a sleep-deprived unintentionally anorexic with security issues. Happy now?"

"You are not," said Glinda.

"Fine, not anorexic. I have malnutrition because I think too much to eat. Happy _now_?"

Glinda rolled her eyes and Fiyero shook his head.

"All right," I sighed, "everybody except Fiyero and Glinda, out." After a moment, they obeyed. "Okay," I said. "Talk."

"Don't worry, she was like that at college, too," Glinda told Fiyero, all but ignoring me. "Well, not checking locks, and she didn't get up _during _the night, but she stayed up working ahead really late and woke up at five and actually _did _things before class. And she didn't always bother coming to the cafeteria, either-"

"Glinda," I said warningly.

"And when she did she was always _working _on something."

"Glinda!"

"It's just _Elphaba_," she finished. "See, she's still alive."

"Thank you for that little observation, Glinda," I added sarcastically. She smiled prettily, letting me know she had heard the sarcasm.

"You're welcome," she said sunnily. I groaned.

"Now you," I said, pointing at Fiyero. "Air your grievances." He gave me a look and rolled his eyes. I returned it, severely. He groaned, knowing he had lost.

"Fine." He flopped down onto the couch next to me and continued. "Elphaba, I know you like no one else-"

"Well, we'd hope so," giggled Glinda. We glared at her and she shut up.

"And I know at least most of your issues-"

"I'm scary and damaged, we know this," I reminded him.

"Exactly. But you still need to eat and sleep."

"Maybe I don't. Maybe I photosynthesize." I suggested, realizing that I was being flippant and a bit of a bitch but unable to stop myself. "Do I have chlorophyll?"

Fiyero gave me a dark look and I quieted, flushing. Glinda looked thoughtful.

"Maybe she does."

Fiyero and I looked at her incredulously.

"No, really," she said. "I mean, melanin is a pigment that gives us our skin color. Wouldn't chlorophyll be Elphie's equivalent?"

_Wow…I think that actually makes sense_.

"I…don't know," I said, too tired to examine the argument. "You know what, Fiyero? You're right. I do need to sleep." I yawned. Fiyero smiled gently and extended his hand. Glinda giggled.

"_WHAT!_" we asked in unison.

"I just figured out _why_ you're so tired," she said, still giggling. We groaned at her and stood up to leave just as a young woman in her early twenties entered. She was striking, with dark red hair and oddly familiar blue eyes. She turned immediately to Fiyero.

"So," she said, "my little brother gets married and he doesn't even send me an invitation?" Fiyero's jaw dropped.

"Addie?" he asked. She didn't reply to him and instead looked over at me.

"And you must be the woman who's been screwing my brother."

_Oh. Sweet. Lurline. _


	26. Addie

**A/N: Addie is my friend's suggestion, somewhat loosely based on Addison Montgomery-Shepherd from _Grey's Anatomy_, which is my friend's favorite show. I wanted Fiyero to have a sister, someone like Addison was her idea. –winks at Kari and her SPSSs- And the plant line is Molly's. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

_If I faint again, I'm going to throw myself out a window_, I thought as I sat back down to avoid said fainting. For the most dangerous woman in Oz, I was pretty damn pathetic.

"Sorry," said Addie, seeing the shock on my face. "I didn't mean to be so blunt."

"No, no, bluntness is good with me. It's just that…" I turned to Fiyero. "I thought you said you were an only child!"

"No…" Fiyero was unable to repress the huge grin on his face. "I never said that."

"Well, you never said you weren't! I certainly talked about _my _sister enough!"

Glinda still looked shocked.

"Well," she said, "I'm just, uh, going to go find something for everyone to eat in the kitchen!"

"Sorry, Fae," apologized Fiyero, "I just never…" I sighed and laid my head in my hands.

"Forget it, it's fine."

"Don't worry, he forgot to tell _me _he was getting married. Or that he was dating you. Or that you existed. So we're even," Addie threw in. She hesitated for a moment. "Um…"

"What?" I asked her without moving my head.

"Well…not to, uh, offend, or anything…"

"Oh, _here _we go," said Fiyero. "Addie, whatever Dad told you, he lied."

"Well, it wasn't _just _Dad, Yerrie," said Addie. I made a mental note to save my comments on _Yerrie _for later. "It was all the newspapers in Oz and the Wizard's press secretary, oh, and let's not forget the _Wizard of fricking Oz himself!_"

"Well," said Fiyero calmly. "There is that. Have you never heard of yellow journalism?"

"It's not yellow journalism, _Yerrie_," I said. I looked at Addie warily. "And please refrain from the, 'no, it's green journalism.' I know you're thinking it."

"So you are a witch," said Addie.

"No, after living in this skin for eighteen years it's just predictable," I responded.

"But you said it wasn't yellow journalism. Doesn't that mean it's true?" she persisted.

"Well, I am a witch, I guess, but the rest of it isn't true. And it's not yellow journalism. It's the government." I sighed. "If you'd been here about half an hour earlier, you'd know how tired I am of this. But I'll just try to explain it as quickly as possible. We discovered that Animals were losing their ability to speak and, consequently, their rights. When I was summoned to see the Wizard, Glinda- she's in the kitchen- came with me, and your darling brother there snuck aboard the train, too. Glinda and I met with him and discovered that he was behind it all. He…he had me read a spell, from a magic book. I didn't know what it meant. It made all his monkey servants…grow wings. Horribly painfully." I closed my eyes tightly. "They told me there was no way to reverse it. The Wizard had had me do it on purpose, to make the monkeys into spies. I rejected his job offer and flew away through the attic skylight on an enchanted broom and lived in the Emerald City fighting against him with Fiyero for the past few months. Any questions?"

Addie's mouth had dropped open and she was staring at me.

"N…no," she managed. Then- "_Fiyero_ fought against the _government_?"

"I've changed, Addie," Fiyero told her. "I'm not a self absorbed jerk anymore."

"As if you couldn't tell by his choice of a life partner," I said wryly.

"Elphaba," said Fiyero, "shut up. You're beautiful."

"Don't tell me to shut up. And don't lie."

He groaned. "We'll get into this later. For someone so confident, you are very insecure." He turned to Addie. "She's sleep-deprived. Excuse her. We were just about to go upstairs when you came in."

"Oh, well, in that case…" she moved to let us pass. But just as she did, Glinda returned from the kitchen with a plate of…something.

"You know, photosynthesis sounds better and better," I said.

"_Do _you photosynthesize?" asked Addie.

"Does my wife look like a plant to you?" asked Fiyero.

"Yes," stage-whispered Glinda. I whacked her lightly on her golden head. "Ow!" she squealed. "Eeeelllllphie!"

"What?" I laughed. "I'm sleep-deprived, remember? I don't know what I'm doing."


	27. Exhaustion

**A/N: I'll try to update as much as possible, but until AP Euro _dies _it's going to be sporadoric at best. No, computer, that _is _a word. It _is. _Fine, then. I get to be president! I make up random words and think they're real! No, sporadoric is a word…it's spelled wrong, but it's a word…isn't it? Now I'm confused…my grip on reality is slipping…oh. It's sporadic. Sporadically. Hah, see, computer! I win!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

After introductions and a bit more awkward small talk, Fiyero and I finally got upstairs.

"I am so exhausted," I sighed, retreating into the bathroom to change into a nightgown.

"At least now you realize you're mortal and constrained by the same needs as the rest of us," commented Fiyero. He wasn't changing.

"Are you going back down to talk to Addie?" I asked. Fiyero sighed.

"Eventually. But you'll learn that with Addie…well, conversation is best in small doses."

I laughed and emerged from the bathroom. "I _like _her."

Fiyero groaned. "Oh, I forgot. You _would_. You're even intenser-"

"More intense."

"Guess I'm sleep-deprived too. And you needed to stay in college because…?"

"Hilarious. Go on."

"And more blunt than she is."

"Well, _I'm _tired of bluntness and intensity at the moment," I sighed, perching on the bed. "Will you- will you stay for a while?"

_Fiyero_

She _did _look exhausted. And surprisingly vulnerable. Sitting on the bed with her bare feet dangling, lightly kicking her long, skinny legs, with her black hair loose and her arms pale green and thin against the charcoal of her nightdress, I was reminded that she- that _we _were only eighteen.

She looked at me again and motioned with her hazel eyes to the bed. Just as I flopped down the length of it, she leapt up, catlike, and climbed in beside me, pulling the long blankets with her. I leaned myself up slightly against the wall so that she could put her head against my chest.

"Hold me," she murmured, then, uncharacteristically, "hold me like a baby."

"_What_?" I asked her. She propped herself up on her elbow, sticking me momentarily in the ribs with its sharp point, grinning mischievously.

"Yes, Yero, so I can sleep like one."

"You're so tired, you barely make sense," I teased her. She fell back and massaged her elbow for a moment before replying; I'd never considered how her boniness must hurt _her _sometimes.

"At least I didn't think _intenser _was a word," she answered, but without the usual spark of argumentativeness. She clearly intended to sleep now that she had gotten in the last word. I wrapped my arms tighter around her, feeling the ridges of her spine and the curves of her ribs press into me.

"You need to eat, too, before you impale me," I said, lightly, but she was really worrying me.

"Shut up, or it won't be my bones I'll use to impale you," she muttered drowsily, "but then I won't, will I, because I love you," she added nearly incoherently and drifted off. It was only a few moments before I followed suit.


	28. Surprise

**A/N: Yes, I do realize this fic has been unattended to for awhile- sorry, AP Euro called. I did use "Wonderful" as the basis for an essay on "What is History" and Dr. Dillamond's "some of us still favor form over content"- well, the form over content part- in an essay on Renaissance education, so…**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

Three years passed by quickly. Addie graduated college the year after we met her, and she stayed at the castle intermittently. Fiyero and I stayed in the city, working for the Resistance, and returned summers to spend time talking and wandering the grasslands nearby with Addie and darting surreptitiously through the halls trying to avoid Igneus and his unpleasantries. The year we were twenty, however, Igneus called Fiyero back to the castle. He preferred to pretend I didn't exist.

_It is time for you to learn responsibility and to begin instruction in your future duty as king_, Igneus had written. Fiyero had laughed bitterly after he'd finished reading it.

"The man's forty-six years old and as healthy as I am. He doesn't _need_ me to learn this stuff now, he's not dying. He's punishing me, the bastard. _I. Hate. Him_." Fiyero stood in the middle of the room, clenching his fists.

"Fiyero," I said quietly, my own ever present guilt coming again into my voice, "you don't know that. Maybe he is sick. Maybe he does need you." I got even more quiet. "Maybe…maybe he just misses you."

"My father doesn't miss anyone, Elphaba," he said, colder than I had ever heard him. "He loves himself and his power. There's no room for anyone else. I'm just a way to perpetuate his power, and someone to exercise it on."

"I think you're wrong," I said, intuition flooding my mind and making me blink. "I think he misses your mother."

"Well, that's just fucking _great_, isn't it," spat Fiyero, beginning to pace. It struck me that he sounded and looked exactly like me. "That makes it my fault."

"We've _been _over this, Yero. It's _not _your fault," I told him fiercely, my inflection oddly familiar. Our eyes met and we burst into laughter.

"My God, I'm turning into you," I said, after we could speak again.

"_My _God, I'm turning into _you_," said Fiyero, making a face of mock horror. I swatted him with the letter. As quickly as the laughter had come upon us, we sobered.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"I don't want to go," said Fiyero, "but I can't just ignore him…" A horror-struck look came over his face.

"What is it?" I asked, alarmed, whirling to face the door to our little room. It was firmly closed. There was nothing there. I turned back to Fiyero, a question written plainly on my face.

"I really can't ignore him," Fiyero gasped. "He might come _here_." I relaxed for a moment with the relief of safety, then glared at him.

"Do you _want _me to die of cardiac arrest at twenty?" I demanded. Fiyero laughed.

"If you weren't so tense-"

"If _you _weren't so easygoing I wouldn't have to-"

"If you weren't so anal retentive-"

"If you weren't so messy-"

"If you weren't so compulsive-"

"If you weren't so damn _lazy-_"

We turned to each other and started laughing again.

…

"So we're going?" I asked later, after we had made love.

"We're going," groaned Fiyero, dread heavy in his voice.

…

So, we went. When we arrived at the castle, Addie was there too. She came running out to greet us, red hair flying. When she got closer, we could tell she had been crying.

"Addie, Addie, what's wrong?" Fiyero asked, as his sister catapulted herself into his arms.

"Father," she cried, "he's _dead-_" Then she seemed to realize where she was and what she had just said, and she started laughing. "Good God, Fiyero, he's _dead_. He's _dead_. The old bastard is _dead_, never to torment anyone again."

Fiyero looked slightly shocked.

"We are so damn dysfunctional," he murmured, and he barely said anything else for the rest of the day, as plans for a memorial service and coronation were made, chiefly by Denedra.

…

That night, Fiyero finally spoke again.

"Sweet Lurline," he murmured, "I'm a horrible person."

"You are _not _a horrible person," I told him. "You are a wonderful person. You are the single best person in Oz. I _love _you. That's not an easy achievement to attain, you know."

He laughed slightly, but not fully. "I know."

We loved each other with a quiet passion and urgency, and when I awoke the next morning, a look of complete peace had spread over my husband's features.

Three weeks later, I realized I was carrying our first child.

Addie exclaimed over me. She'd worked as a midwife's assistant before, and she'd delivered many babies around the village whenever she stayed here. There was nothing much else she could do around here with her Human Sciences degree from Ozford University.

"Elphaba," she asked me one day about a month later when I was sitting outside, "have you even told Fiyero yet?"

My heart sank.

"No," I admitted.

"Why not?"

"If you hadn't figured it out- why the hell do you look in people's laundry, anyway, Addie? That's just creepy- then I wouldn't have told you. I wouldn't have told anyone, not for a long time," I informed her.

"Again, why not?"

"Because I don't want people fussing over me!" I announced. "For the love of-"

"Are you two talking about me?" asked Fiyero teasingly, sauntering outside and plopping himself on the chair between Addie and I. The palpable tension in the air was evident to him after only a moment. He glanced between us, taking in the harsh sets of our faces and the glares in our eyes, and he sighed.

"What are you fighting about?" he prodded.

"Elphaba should tell you," Addie said.

"Addie should mind her own business," I responded.

"Elphaba should be less hostile to her own loved ones," Addie shot back.

"I wouldn't feel too loved at the moment if I were you," I retorted, and she huffed back into the castle, leaving an openmouthed Fiyero alone with me.

"What the _hell_?" he asked finally. I groaned.

"There's something…I have to tell you," I said after a moment.

"What?" asked Fiyero, looking concerned.

"I'm pregnant."

**A/N: Yeah, I know, I know. Get a new plot, Emily! But they're all different, I swear. And I needed it for this scene I already wrote that takes place later in the story. **


	29. The Wicked Witch of the West

**A/N: Bwahahahaha. I'm evil. Anyways. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

Fiyero looked shocked for a second. Then he burst into laughter.

"Well. That was one response I wasn't prepared for," I said.

"Very…funny," Fiyero gasped. "You're getting me back for scaring you back in the City, aren't you?"

"That was two months ago, you mental case," I informed him. "I only plan that far ahead when said plans involve blowing things up or writing term papers." He stopped laughing.

"You're _serious_?"

"No, I argue with your sister for kicks."

"You _do _argue with my sister for kicks."

"About _politics_, not about what is or is not in my uterus!"

"I did not need to know that."

"_Know that_! _You _put it there!"

"Do you know something?"

"What?"

"This is a ridiculous conversation."

I calmed down.

"Yes, it is," I said, laughing. "Sweet Lurline, we're dysfunctional."

"Yes, we are." Fiyero paused and regarded me with intent blue eyes. "Get up."

"Why would I do that?"

"Just do it, please."

"Fine," I sighed, and stood. He picked me up and whirled me around. "Fiyero!" I yelled.

"What?"

"We've _talked _about this!"

"Well." He was at a loss for words for a moment. "_You _never listen to me. I'm entitled."

"That train of thought leads to a dangerous place, my dear."

"I like getting on trains you tell me not to. It generally leads to good things."

"Ugh," I sighed, "No more metaphors for you."

Above us, Addie stuck her head out the window.

"Kiss, already," she yelled. "This snappy banter thing you've got going is getting boring!"

"Shall you do the honors or shall I?" Fiyero murmured in a low voice.

"Let's both," I answered, equally inaudibly. Simultaneously, the two of us reached up and flipped her off.

"Now, shall we oblige my dear sister?" asked Fiyero. "We don't want to make her too angry, she probably will be delivering our baby."

"Yes, and maybe if we're good little boys and girls she'll send us to bed early," I whispered back, and we kissed for a long moment. A _very _long moment.

…

The next morning when I came downstairs for coffee, Addie was sitting in the kitchen reading a broadside from the City.

"Elphaba, have you blown anything up lately?"

"Unless you count your brother, no."

"Ew, sweet _Lurline_, shut up!"

I laughed. "Sorry. Why?"

"Someone has, and they're blaming you."

"Don't tell me who 'they' means…"

She nodded. "The Wizard and Madame what's-her-face."

"Horrible Morrible." I turned back to the cupboard. "Damnit, the damn cream was right there, where _is _it!" Fiyero came into the room and whistled at my cursing.

"Good morning, _sunshine_."

"Piss off. Where'd you hide the cream?"

"You can't have coffee."

"I'll drink it fucking black if you don't give me the cream. That's less diluted; I'm sure it's worse."

He deftly grabbed the mug and dumped it down the sink.

"Fine, then I'm going to the _wine _cellar and turning myself into my fucking _mother_!"

"Elphaba," he said, grabbing me and pulling me back into the room, "you don't mean that. What's wrong?"

"It's six o' clock in the morning, I apparently blew something up from a thousand miles away, and I _want my coffee!_" I yelled.

"You did what?" asked Fiyero.

"The propaganda machine never sleeps," said Addie, handing him the broadside. Fiyero scanned it.

"Shit."

I started up the stairs. "Elphaba, what are you doing?" yelled Fiyero from behind me.

"I'm giving the people what they want!" I responded. I heard Fiyero's running footsteps come after me. He caught up with me just as I reached the top of the stairs.

"Elphaba. Fae. What are you doing? Specifically?"

"Specifically? I am going in that room, putting on my black dress and cape and hat, peeing, and then grabbing my broom, finding a balcony, and flying to the Emerald City to give the Wizard of Oz a piece of my mind," I answered. "He wants the Wicked Witch of the West, that's what he'll get."

"Is that what they're calling you?" Fiyero asked. "Do they know where we are?"

"No, but they know who you are."

"Good thing my father's dead; he'd kill me and then die of embarrassment if he weren't," remarked Fiyero.

"But you can't rule if you're a wanted criminal, can you?" I asked. Fiyero smiled.

"My people aren't so fond of the Wizard as one might think. They're loyal to their king and his descendants, first and foremost. It's an ancient loyalty that goes back further even than the Ozma line," said Fiyero. "Addie will rule in name and in Emerald City record books, and we'll rule with her in reality," he explained. "The Ozmas were invaders here, the Wizard is twice as much of one. No one here's going to throw me over." I kissed him.

"I love you," I said.

"And I, you," he answered. "Be careful."

"I will," I told him, hand on my stomach. "I'll be back within two days."

And ten minutes later, he watched me soar over the battlements and eastward into the sky.


	30. Playing A Role

**A/N: I think my Euro teacher wants to turn us all into Machiavellians. Or something. But what do I know? I'm just the idealistic wanna-be lawyer. WHY IS MACHIAVELLIAN A WORD AND NOT…um…crap…NOW YOU SAY SPORADICALLY AND SPORADORICALLY ARE BOTH WORDS, COMPUTER? URGH! DIE! I SWEAR GROMMETIK LIVES IN THIS THING OR SOMETHING! Um. No more caffeine for me. WHY ISN'T ADDIE A WORD ACCORDING TO YOU, COMPUTER? HUH? **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

Fiyero:

_What would my father say? _

Addie, still sitting at the kitchen table drinking her coffee and reading her broadside, completely unperturbed by the fact that my pregnant wife has just flown off on a broomstick straight into the castle of the person who hates her most in the world, seems to be able to read my mind.

"It's _Elphaba_, brother dear, I've only been in her presence for two months altogether and already I can tell you that she's perfectly capable of handling the Wizard of Oz. And as for Father," Addie shook her head. "I remember when Mother was pregnant with you. If Father were here, right now he and Elphaba would be having a very nasty screaming match about gender roles that would probably involve Elphaba telling him to shove his you-know-what you-know-where."

I could imagine it all too well. But-

"How did you-" I began. I got enough of this with Elphaba. Addie gave me a look.

"The worried about Elphaba part is obvious. And you said the Father thing out loud. I'm not done with that, either." Addie took a long sip of her coffee, then went on, clearly enjoying herself. "Then, she'd probably say that her inch-long fetus had more brains than he did, and then he would try to order her to stay here by his authority, and then things would get very nasty very quickly-"

"Because my wife telling my father, who is by the way _dead_, to shove his- er- manhood- up his rear end isn't nasty enough?" I asked her, amused anyway by the mental scene her description conjured up.

"Nope," Addie said cheerfully. "She might even hit him with her broom."

"You are having so much fun with this, aren't you?" I asked Addie. She grinned.

"Yup. It's more fun than a barrel of-" she paused. "Oh, shit."

"What?" I asked. I was getting tired of how Elphaba and Addie seemed to have some perennial knowledge of what was going to happen that I didn't.

"How do you feel about flying monkeys?"

…

Elphaba:

I flew for a long time. When I finally reached the City, windblown and numbed, I paused in a tree at the outskirts for a moment, gathering my wits. _You are playing a part, Elphaba. It's not who you are_. Then, I realized fully what I was going in there to perpetuate, what all those _millions _of people thought of me.

_And since when do you care what they think, Elphaba? _I clenched my fists. _No. No. No. I _am not _a monster. I am _notI closed my eyes and clutched the kernel of myself tight, and hid it well and safe, deep inside, then leapt on the broom and swooped off low, cackling.

After causing terror in the City for a few minutes, dipping and cackling and shrieking, I flew up the side of the Palace until I found the window of the Wizard's study and kicked it in. He was not there. I took a book from his shelf and settled in to wait.

…

Fiyero:

I couldn't deal with it any longer. I had to do something. She was in the middle of a city even more stirred up against her than usual. Stirred up against their idea of her: the vindictive, cackling, soulless murdering witch.

Suddenly I needed to see her; all sixty-eight inches of her in her boots, her gleaming hazel eyes and the way she scrunched up her nose and bit the inside of her lip when she was trying not to laugh at something I'd said to pull her out of the fervor of an argument, her full, genuine laughs and the light bursts of something akin to giggles but not really- nothing like cackles. I needed the warm reassurances she gave me and I her without a word; our own secret language of touching. Her hand in mine, on my arm, against my side; her cues of pressing herself slightly into me, the nudge of her foot against my calf.

_Sweet Lurlina_.

I needed her, _now_.

So I jumped on a horse and galloped like hell for the train station.

…

Elphaba:

_Oh, you're one hell of a Resistance fighter, Elphaba,_ I thought to myself. _Sitting in the Wizard of Oz's office READING! Think of everything you could learn just from the papers on his desk! _

Angry with myself, I tossed down the book and walked over to the desk. Half-heartedly, I rummaged through the top drawer. _Damn, this man is disorganized_. Suddenly, I felt something cold and hard against the tips of my fingers. I plumbed deeper and clasped my hand around something…I pulled it out.

A green glass bottle.

Just like the one in my own pocket.

Just like my mother's.

And I was desperately trying to repress the conclusion my mind was grabbing at when he walked in.


	31. Ruby Sunset

**A/N: Okay, I will update Contrapasso. I wrote an update but messed it up and now I'm too lazy to fix it, but I will. And Through the Waterfall. And Ordeal. Which will have plot, sometime soon. Also, I know Avaric is from the book, and I know I didn't technically put him at Shiz with them, but I didn't say he wasn't so now let's just say he was. Creative license.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

_Fiyero: _

I sprinted faster than I ever had before, down the length of the Emerald City train station- the last time I had been there flashing through my head- and through the streets, praying no one I had once known would stop me.

_Damn_.

Avaric reached out a hand to stop me as he spotted me running. He caught me in the stomach with it, swinging me back so rapidly that I nearly tripped and fell into the old lady behind me, who gave me a dirty look and swung her purse in my direction scoldingly, making me feel like an asshole collegiate playboy again.

It was not a good feeling.

"Avaric," I gasped out, winded, "I really have to-"

"Whoa, slow down," he replied. He looked exactly the same as he had the last time I'd seen him- downing something with a disproportionate amount of alcohol in it at a party at Shiz. "I haven't seen you in ages. Where _did _you disappear to, old chap?" I suddenly realized just how annoying Av's over-affected Old Gillikinese manner truly was. He lowered his voice and gave me an intense look. "Did you go off with her? With the Witch? Or did you just fall into some rathole bar and get quietly expelled?"

"Neither," I said truthfully. Elphaba wasn't a witch- well, she wasn't _their _Wicked Witch- and I definitely hadn't done the second.

"What _did _you do?" demanded Avaric.

"Married Elphaba Thropp," I answered, shoved him aside, and ran off, leaving him gaping in my wake.

…

_The Wizard: _

She had some nerve. Terrorizing the city, then not a half hour later showing up in my office. What's more, it was obvious that she'd gone through my desk. She stood there, my green bottle in her hand, wild-haired and fierce-eyed, reminding me of the image I always conjured up when reading about Irish pirate chieftain Grania O'Malley, as I had done so often back on Earth whenever people would mock…but I didn't think about that anymore.

"What are you doing with that?" I demanded. "Put that down!"

Surprisingly, she obeyed wordlessly. And then…she pulled an identical green bottle from her own cloak.

_Elphaba: _

He walked in, glaring at me as if I truly were what he had convinced everyone I was. Maybe he had even convinced himself.

"What are you doing with that?" I heard him ask from far away. "Put that down!"

Trancelike, I did so. Then, I pulled my out my own little bottle. _Miracle Elix- _.

"This was my mother's," I said flatly. "Melena's. She bought it from a tinker before..." I trailed off, praying there was a simple explanation, praying he had simply bought it from the same tinker. Praying that if he had not, if what my intuition was screaming was true, if they had slept together, that I wasn't…that he wasn't…

"How…how old are you?" he asked in a tremulous voice, growing more pale by the second. Green as I was, I was sure I couldn't look too much better.

"Twenty," I said, gazing desperately at the floor. "I was born three days short of a month after Lurlinemas." For some reason, that old substitute for my actual date of birth slipped out. I had always said it so that people would be less likely to take the time to figure it out and to remember it later, considering that until Glinda and Fiyero at college, my birthday was more likely to be greeted with pranks than presents, and even had that not been the case, I hated the fuss. I hadn't died that year; whoop-de-doodle-do for me.

But now, here, he had done the math and he looked like a ghost.

"Grania O'Malley," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" I asked, deeply confused.

"N-nothing," he answered. "You- really?"

"This is just fucking unbelievable!" I exploded suddenly, the mixture of anger, painful memories, suspense and disbelief imploding in my chest and, as usual, out my mouth. "It's not bad enough that I get _one _father who hates me body and soul, _no, I _get fucking _two_!"

He stared at me as if he could not believe what had just come out of my mouth.

"You made me the Wicked Witch of the West," I spat, "You wanted a murderous terrorist who is the embodiment of all things despicable, you made me that terrorist, _ergo_, my dear _father_, I will say _fuck_ if I so choose, when I _so fucking choose!_"

As if to accentuate the statement, the very moment the last word left my mouth Fiyero burst into the room, slammed the door, and shoved a chair under the handle so quickly neither of us had the time to react.

"Let the green girl go!" he yelled.

The Wizard and I just looked at him. He stared back and then shook his head.

"Whoa," he breathed, "for a moment- the two of you- I thought I saw-"

"You did," I told him, "this _bastard _is my father."

"What the _hell_? How?" Fiyero demanded.

"Well, Yero darling, when two people either love each other very much, happen to be in the same bar at the same time, or are very, _very _drunk-"

"Yeah, I _got _that part." He rounded on me, his sapphire gaze boring into me. "Speaking of which, what in Kumbricia's name do you think you're doing, flying out here on a benighted _broomstick_ into the arm's of this- this- devil's spawn- when you're two month's pregnant? Fae! You have-"

"I think you just called me devil's spawn's spawn," I pointed out, causing him to roll his eyes, "and you didn't object to my leaving when I kissed you goodbye and jumped off a parapet in full view of you."

"No one can object to anything you do in one of your- moods!"

"You _could_," I corrected him, "I just wouldn't have listened. Fiyero, if you're going to use my pregnancy as a way to keep me under your control, as much as I love you I'll leave for the next seven months and I'll think long and hard about coming back at all!"

"No!" he responded instantly, and I released a long breath of relief. "Fae, _no_. I don't mean to do that, and I never would! I just worry about you. I just _love _you."

"Thank you," I said simply, and came over to his side so that we could support each other, as it was meant to be.

The Wizard stood stock-still, staring at us.

"You're- you're _married_?" _I thought it was just a fling_, was written clearly across his face, and so were several other things.

"We're married," said Fiyero challengingly, pulling me closer.

"Go on, say what you're thinking," I invited. "Say what you would have said about how sick he must be to love a green monster twenty minutes ago. I don't want any concessions from you. I just want you to leave me, my name, and my family alone."

"Your…your name?" he asked.

"My name. Leave me out of things I didn't do," I clarified. "Please. I am not a murderer, I am not a wicked witch. I don't give a damn what anyone thinks about me, but I _won't _be your scapegoat. I'm not going to be the means by which you perpetuate your dictatorship."

"I- I don't…I can't-" he looked pale still, and sweaty and awfully fragile, and it struck me that he, too, was just a man, a mortal. _Memento mori; remember you will die_. The phrase appeared in my head out of nowhere, and imprinted itself there, along with all its connotations. I reached out a hand, unsure of what I was going to do with it, and when I'd finally decided perhaps just to be civil to this man who was my father, despite what he had done, he had to go and find his voice.

"Guards! Guards!" he yelled, and I stared in disbelieving horror.

"_Fucker_," hissed Fiyero, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of my stunned state. "Elphaba, _go_, they'll break down the door in a minute," Fiyero yelled.

"Right," I said, finding myself again and grabbing the broom, rushing over to the window, and stepping onto it in a quick, easy motion. Fiyero situated himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, securing us both. "Push off," I whispered, and we both pushed hard with our feet against the ledge and in a moment we were soaring.

_Fiyero: _

Elphaba had a plan, I could tell. She had that gleam in her eye, the one that meant suicidal-sounding adventure. She swung the broom back around to face the Palace and plunged lower, lower, lower until she reached a substantially sized, barred, window on the second floor. She dipped closer to it, peering in intently. I tried to look in, but I couldn't see past her. An uneasy feeling filled me, and I wanted to leave.

"Fae-"

"Ssh. I know what I'm doing." She muttered a quiet spell, and the tinted glass and bars disappeared, revealing about a dozen monkeys. _Winged _monkeys.

"So that…" I murmured, but found myself unable to finish my sentence.

"Yes," she said somberly, "that." Then, louder, aiming her voice at the erstwhile caged animals, she called out. "Fly! Fly! You're free! Come now, fly away!"

One of them, appearing to recognize her, chattered to the others, and, slowly, in small groups, the monkeys climbed to the window ledge, leapt, and tasted flight. A gust of wind came up, and Elphaba turned the broom and swung us onto it, and as we lifted higher I turned to see that the monkeys were following us, _all _of them, and I looked back at Elphaba, who was laughing, a look of crazy joy on her face. Her hat had been shoved into her bag; her long dark hair whipped back around both of our faces, and skeins of it glowed coppery as we flew off, quite literally, into the sunset. Her cheeks, green as they were, were whipped red by the cold wind, and she threw her head back onto my shoulder and screamed, "I love you!" into the wind, and we flew up, up, up and home, trailing monkeys like muddy rubies in the sky behind us.


	32. Tired

_Fiyero: _

She swooped us low over the parapets of the castle, laughing crazily as she turned ever more tightly around turret after turret, making even me, the great college daredevil, yell out in fear. Finally, when I was about to pass out, she landed neatly on the balcony outside our bedroom and alighted gracefully, snapping the broom to upright and into her left hand as her right grabbed me and held me up.

The chattering primates that filled the sky obeyed the casual sweep of her hand and flew around to land in the back courtyard.

"How did you-" I gasped when I got my voice back. She laughed again, freely. Her long raven waves were windblown and tangled and had copper sunlight dancing in them. The red stain that the cold had drawn to her cheeks remained. The sun caught her hazel eyes and turned them gold and unearthly. She was a creature of light and magic and air, held earthbound –

"By my love for you," she said suddenly, as if she had read my mind. At my shocked expression, she clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp.

"Didn't you say that out loud?"

"No," I said slowly.

"Sorry," she blushed deeper. "I didn't mean to-"

"I don't mind."

…

We lived peacefully for the next six months, until one night when Elphaba came down in a charcoal gray nightgown, the huge swell of her belly evident beneath it, her hair a thick wet blanket over her thin shoulders. I moved to kiss her, but the limp way she stood and the haunted look in her eyes stopped me.

"Elphie, what is it?" I asked her.

"Nessie," she said quietly. "Something's wrong, Yero, terribly wrong, or it will be- I –I have to go-"

"You can't! Nessarose is a grown woman, Elphie. Someday she'll have to learn to take care of herself. You're pregnant, it's cold outside, you're wet- you can't go coursing around Oz on that broomstick there, like a storybook witch!"

Her eyes flashed fire. "I _have _to go to her," she insisted. "You don't understand. She _needs _me."

The insistence in her voice brought our conversation in the Shiz library, our first kiss, back to me with vivid clarity.

"Go," I told her, embracing her tightly, memorizing the feel of her against me. "Go. Do what you have to do, but for Lurline's sake, please, put on a warm dress and a cloak first!"

She smiled at me, kissed me, and was halfway to the stairs before turning and giving me a look.

"I wasn't asking you. I was telling you what I was doing. Just so you know."

"I know."

"Good." She turned to continue up the stairs, but then stopped and looked at me again. "I love you," she said.

"I love you, too."

"I know."

…

Two days later, two days filled with worry from me and reassurance from Addie, she returned on a rainy afternoon, looking like a drowned sparrow as she flew, buffeted by the wind, into a near crash landing on the balcony. I dashed out of the bedroom and caught her in my arms. She fell like a ragdoll against me, barely conscious. I carried her inside, where I dried her, wrapped her in a cocoon of blankets, and brought her tea. She accepted it gently, her eyes still wide and shocked.

"Elphie, Elphie, what is it?" I asked her.

"She walked, Fiyero," Elphaba said in a thin, amazed voice.

"Who, Nessarose? But-"

"I charmed her shoes, and she walked. And then Boq- he wanted to leave- and go find Glinda in the City- but Nessie took the Grimmerie- and his heart, Fiyero, his heart- she- she _destroyed _it- and I-I turned him into tin- it was the only thing I could do," she said in a strangled voice, searching my face for absolution. "Don't you understand? It was the only thing I could do! I had to save him! But then Nessie blamed me, and I ran away! I hid in the courtyard, on the wall. I know that place so well. But I had to stay, I kept seeing- a house, a flying house. And I tried to stay awake. Father- no, Frex- died of shame. My fault. My mother- I couldn't- I had to save Nessa- but I fell asleep, just for an hour, and when I woke up, this house- it had fallen on her- it _killed her_- a girl and a dog lived in it- I- I don't-" She fell back against the pillow, exhausted and drained, and splayed an elegant green hand over the round world of her abdomen.

"Poor child," she said quietly, and I was not sure who she meant. "It wasn't an accident," she whispered. "Madame Morrible, the Wizard- they did it, to catch me, Glinda told me so- the guards came, and they almost caught me, but I flew away before they could determine how to go about seizing a woman nine months pregnant-" Her face went pale beneath the green, and her mouth rounded into an "O."

"Speaking of which," she managed, "the baby's about to have done with flying around the countryside in utero-" she gasped, and, panicked, I screamed for Addie as Elphaba, soaking wet and traumatized, went into labor.


	33. Painful Love

**A/N: I know it's been forever, but it's all school's fault. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. BUT THE MAC CHROMACAKE LANDSCAPE GREEN MAKEUP I WORE ON HALLOWEEN IS!!!! **

_Fiyero_:

Addie kicked me out of Elphaba's delivery about the time I started screaming louder than Elphaba, and she threw a book at me and told me sympathy pain was patronizing and if I wanted the right to scream I should go "yank on your testicles until you feel like they're about to rip off, but until then I'm the one pushing a human being out my genitals so I'll be the one screaming, thank you very much!"

"Get out, you're stressing her," Addie ordered.

"_I'm _stressing _her_? She's the one who told me to yank my testicles off!" I yelled at Addie.

"This is your fault, damn it, and I _can hear you!_" Elphaba screamed at me.

"It's not like you disagreed!" I protested, indignant. Another missile went sailing at my head, missing it by barely an inch, and Addie screamed that if I didn't get out she'd start throwing things at me and she had a better view than Elphaba.

So I obeyed and paced outside nervously, wringing my hands and running them habitually through my hair, biting my tongue whenever Elphaba screamed. And it wasn't her normal, "DAMN IT TO BLOODY HELL" kind of screaming, either. I could tell she was in a lot of pain – _obviously, you great idiot_- and finally, Addie emerged, grinning at me.

"What- what happened?" I managed to ask her.

"Go see," she answered, smacking my head lightly and tousling my hair like she had when we were kids. I clawed at her hands.

"Hey!"

She grinned and danced away, mouthing "_Go in there!" _at me. So I did.

…

_Elphaba: _

I couldn't fathom it. Pregnancy had been merely a nuisance for me. I'd never quite gotten around to the idea of the actual reality of a baby.

A baby. A girl. A daughter. _My _daughter.

I wasn't ready for this! I still felt eighteen inside, awkward and sharply angled and abandoned.

But- a baby.

Tiny and round and perfect, she was pale, suffused with redness from the effort of living. A downy covering of light reddish fuzz, Fiyero's hair color, like copper-tinged straw, lay like a cap over her head. Belying the lightness of her hair, her blue birth eyes were fringed by smoky charcoal lashes. She yawned, revealing her perfect, pink, unused mouth, lips through which nothing had ever passed. She reached out a tiny fist, unclenched it and then curled her fingers into a fist again, taking hold of the air.

"Like her mother," said Fiyero, coming in and sitting beside me- us- opening once again our mysterious river of unspoken communication. His brows furrowed. "She is a she, isn't she?"

"Yes," I laughed. "She's a she."

"She needs a name," observed Fiyero, climbing further onto the bloody-sheeted bed and curling his arm around me, winding his other arm with mine to help support her.

"She does," I agreed. Fiyero studied her for a moment, then turned to me.

"What's your middle name, again?" he asked.

"Casandra," I said hesitantly.

"Cassandra," he repeated, drawing out the 's' slightly. "Cassie. I like it."

"If we call her Cassie…yes, so do I," I said. "Cassandra Rose Tiggular."

"Rose?"

"After Nessa," I said quietly.

"Cassie Rose," said Fiyero. The baby cooed.

…

Fiyero insisted that I needed far more rest than I actually did, and Addie didn't help, but I was content to spend the next few days holding Cassie and reading the broadsides Fiyero brought me, until I noticed that a big part of one was missing.

"Fiyero," I said, coming into the kitchen holding Cassie, "where's the rest of this?"

He and Addie looked up guiltily.

"What rest of it?" he asked, lying badly.

"You're a horrible liar," I informed him. "You've lost your touch. The rest of this broadside, Yero, what's on it and where have you hidden it?"

"Well, Elphie, we didn't want to worry you…" Addie began.

"Take the devil you know over the devil you don't. The unknown is more worrisome and cannot be prepared against," I countered. "Tell me."

"Sit down," said Fiyero.

"I'm not going to faint." An idea struck me. "Chistery!" I yelled loudly. Cassie cooed happily when they winged monkey came bounding lop-leggedly into the room. She and Chistery already adored each other. "Where did Fiyero and Addie hide the paper?" I asked. The monkey went immediately to a cabinet, pulled the missing piece out, and handed it to me.

"Thank you," I told him. He bowed theatrically, made a face at Cassie, and bounded out of the room.

"Ha," I said to Fiyero and Addie, handing Cassie to her father and stealing his coffee as I scanned the sheet quickly.

_Damn. _ OTHERWORLDLY CHILD TO KILL WICKED WITCH; ANGRY MOBS AND RIOTING FOLLOW IN HER WAKE

_Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn. _

I looked up at Fiyero and Addie's concerned faces and at Cassie's sweet innocence. Who was to say if an angry mob would pause to consider what it was doing, who was to say they would stop with me?

And I couldn't die. I wasn't leaving Cassie motherless and stigmatized even in my absence. Her life was going to be _different_.

"Well," I told Fiyero finally, "we need a plan."

"I know," he said, "Believe me. I'm going to Munchkinland today, to see what rumors I can pick up." He stood, and Addie took Cassie from him. I embraced him warmly.

"Be careful, my love," I whispered.

"I will. I love you."

"I love you, too."

He kissed me, and then he was gone.

…

I woke that night with a sense of dread pressing upon my chest like a lead weight. I ran outside in the pouring rain of the thunderstorm pounding the foundations of the castle to stare east from the balcony. I could see as clearly as the stone firm and cold beneath my white-knuckled hands what had happened. They had discovered who Fiyero was, somehow; they had abducted him- _I'll call it kidnapping if I want to…I don't acknowledge this government…_ - and they were going to torture him…kill him…

Running entirely on instinct, terrifying thoughts chasing each other in downwardly spiraling circles through my cornered mind, I ran for the Grimmerie, heart thudding in my chest, fear mounting into hysteria, tears building behind my eyes, praying to Everygod, Anygod. I fell to my knees before the book, flipped it open blindly, letting intuition guide me, and began to chant in pure undiluted hope and fear: "Eleka nahmen, nahmen, ah tum, ah tum, eleka nahmen…"


	34. In the Storm

**A/N: Don't throw tomatoes at me, or you won't get the pretty, long story. Yes, it's long, that's –cough- why I've had it written for ages and didn't type it. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

_Elphaba: _

There was nothing to do but wait. In the dark castle, with a subdued Addie and a presciently silent Cassandra, I scratched open every small wound on my body. There are two tiny, round cuts on my legs. I painstakingly open one at a time. It didn't hurt. It gave me an uncomfortable twinge near my ribs, in that oddly interconnected way that the body sometimes has. Perfect, pure, round orbs of deep crimson blood formed and grew. I watched, mesmerized, until they succumbed to gravity, proving the sum of me stronger than my parts, and rolled down my legs.

_Let this blood serve for his, _I prayed. _Please. Anyone who's up there, if you can hear me- ME- asking you, you know it's bad. Please. Not for me, for him. For Cassandra. They, at least, are innocent. Please_.

I fell asleep, finally, holding Cassandra in the bed, with Addie curled up on the chair across the room.

Through half-closed eyes, I watched the candles burn themselves out into puddles of wax.

I dreamt of melting, of losing my shape, consumed by fire or water.

I dreamt of cyclones.

I dreamt of my mother,

I dreamt of burning alive.

I dreamt of Boq and envied his heartlessness.

I awoke more exhausted than I had been before.

Cassie cried vaguely in the way of sleeping infants. I held her closer and sobbed into her downy softness. I prayed for Fiyero in a constant whirl of thoughts.

What is a spell but an overachieving prayer, anyhow?

_Fiyero: _

When I came to myself, hanging on a pole in a field feeling numb, I wondered first if I had been paralyzed in the beating I could remember, but not feel.

Then I kicked my feet and felt them moving, but no pain when they slapped lightly against the pole.

Too lightly.

I looked down and barely suppressed a yelp of horror: I was made of straw.

My next thought was of realization: _Elphaba did this. Elphaba saved my life_.

My next was of terror: _Can I feel emotionally? _

I thought of Elphaba and Cassandra, and a wave of love and relief enveloped me. Then I realized that before that, I had been awash in the emotion of fear, and laughed at my thickheadedness, happily.

Then, I heard footsteps and instinctively stiffened. A girl of about thirteen, in a foreign-looking dress of blue and white, carrying a basket with a dog in it came along the road, the gold of the bricks contrasting with the ruby red of her shoes.

THE RUBY RED OF HER SHOES?!

Sanctified excrement, as Elphaba would say.

This was the girl who had killed Nessarose.

_Elphaba: _

The not knowing paralyzed me.

I could not scream and howl and scrape futilely at the wall, ripping myself open, letting myself bleed any more than I already had, because he might, might, not yet be dead.

_Please please please please please please. _

So, I grew hysterical. I shrieked and threw things, terrifying the seemingly indigent cats, the dogs who had inhabited the courtyard but who had long ago ingratiated themselves into our hearts and our home, the monkeys.

Cassie, as horrible as it made me feel to hear her cries.

Alienating Addie.

I felt grotesquely mean but was unable to stop.

I tried not to think about all the terrible ways there were to die, and all the easy ones.

I was more than restless. Sitting, I could feel my pulse flutter against my legs, standing I felt about to fall. Constant movement or sleep were my only recourses.

_Fiyero: _

The girl looked confused, glancing down the two roads of yellow brick diverging before her. Without thinking- a trademark of mine- I spoke.

"That way is a very nice way," I said. "It's pleasant down that way, too."

…

Dorothy was shocked that a scarecrow could talk. I was shocked to find myself a gifted liar under pressure, contrary to what Elphaba had said.

_Elphaba_. Just thinking of her made me fraught with panic. It was this panic that had made me start lying, initially. Dorothy, for that was the girl's name, had asked me what was wrong and I'd lied and told her that I had no brain, just as I used to think. Metaphorically of course, though she took it quite literally.

She was going to see the Wizard, to see if he could send her home. But after reading the article in that broadside, I knew what he was going to ask her to do first: Kill Elphaba. And I had to prevent that at all costs. So I went with her.

Along the way, we found Boq, in his new form as a man of tin, and a Cowardly Lion. _A cowardly lion…_

Upon realizing the Lion's identity- he was the Cub Elphaba and I- mostly Elphaba- had saved at Shiz. I was tempted to tell him thanks for introducing me to my wife, but I had no desire to even chance revealing myself to Boq, who grew more and more suspicious as the time wore on.

When we had made camp for the night, I lay down as far from the fire as I could and focused on Elphaba, trying to contact her, to give her a vision, _something_, to let her know I was alive…

_Elphaba: _

I would know if he was dead, so he must be alive. But wouldn't I feel it if he were alive, too? My logic grew more and more twisted as I lost sleep. Now only movement- pacing- was left to me. My eyes refused to close, my mind clouded with nightmares before I had even laid my head down. The horrible ways there were to die floated through my head, refusing to leave me alone. My hands twisted like a pair of fighting green doves, wrangling each other mercilessly. I couldn't hold my daughter, I was shaking so hard, all the time. I curled myself under the blankets and trembled in the darkness.

_Fiyero_, I thought, _Fiyero, Fiyero, if you're alive, please, let me know, somehow. _

An impulse caught hold of me and refused to let go. I threw off the blankets and ran once again out into the storm, the storm that covered the Vinkus and that hadn't let up since Fiyero's disappearance- Sweet Lurline, had it really only been two days?-

A sheet of rain slapped me in the face, soaking through my thin, dirty nightgown, waking me up.

"_Fiyero!_" I screamed to the wind, as loud as I could, imagining it carrying his name across the miles to him, borne on love.

I fell to my knees in the dark wetness of the night, the unrelenting damp soaking through my skirt, and I went inside my head.

And I heard him.


	35. Finding Fault

**A/N: Wow. It's been awhile. –dodges rotten tomatoes- Soooooooooooooooo. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

"But how can you be sure?" Addie asked. I wrapped my arms more tightly around my still-damp middle and pressed hard on my ribs, as if to collapse them.

"I just am, Addie," I said quietly. "I _know_ things, remember? I _see_ them, I _hear _them, and they're always real. _Always_." I thought of Nessa and pressed harder.

Addie stared at me for a long moment. Cassie, with her precocious grasp of conversation, silently extended her small arms toward me, a solemn look on her small face. I reached for my daughter and settled her warm weight in my arms.

"Ma…" Cassie burbled, wrapping her arms around my neck as if in admonishment of something she could not possibly know.

"I have to go, dear one," I looked up at Addie. "I will find him," I told her. "I _will_." I kissed Cassandra. "Goodbye, _ma coeur_." I whispered. _My heart_. "I am going to find your father, and I will be back. With him." I hugged her close, handed her to Addie, and flew off into the distant mountains on my broom.

_Fiyero: _

I could feel her again, haunting my mind. We- Boq, the Lion, the girl, her dog, and I, were sleeping in a small clearing in the woods off the road, and Elphaba felt nearer in spirit than she had in days. I could almost see her in front of my eyes.

"Fiyero, you great idiot," she was saying, "Wake up. Are you asleep? What are you doing, I'm standing right here!"

Oh.

I pulled my head further out of the blankets and took her in. She looked drawn and weary, thinner than when I had last seen her, and her eyes had a slightly wild edge to them. And it was my fault.

"Oh, Fiyero," she cried, kneeling beside me, "Oh, what have I done?" In truth, I had almost forgotten about my altered state. I pulled myself up to a sitting position and wrapped flimsy straw arms around her shaking frame.

"It's not your fault," I whispered gently, "You saved my life, huh? The rest of it doesn't matter. I'm still alive, with you and Cassie. How is she?"

She raised her damp eyes to mine. "I'm a terrible mother," she whispered. "When you were gone, when we thought- we thought you might be-" she squeezed her eyes shut in painful remembrance "-I couldn't take care of her. I frightened her, Fiyero. I was this, this-" she stopped abruptly and nearly crumbled right before my eyes. The wild edge took them over as she grabbed my hands desperately and continued, frightening me with her intensity. "I was what they said, Fiyero, oh, God, I was. I was this awful wicked witch." She dissolved into unstoppable tears. "And she still loves me. You still love me. I don't deserve it. I scared her, I did this to you…" she looked up at me again. "You should all hate me. I'm a terrible person."

"Oh, Fae, no. No. Don't you _dare_ think that. Look at me. _Look _at me," I said more forcefully than I could ever remember saying anything. She had rubbed off on me; I sounded like her. "Listen. You had every right to be upset. And I know you, you would never really hurt Cassie. You could never truly frighten her. And you _saved_ me. Sure, it's not perfect, but it's better than dead, and who wants perfect anyway?" Gently, I lifted her chin and kissed her, pulling her into my arms and beneath the warm blanket.

"We need a plan," she murmured beside me.

"I know. Look, we're going to the Emerald City. You already know the Wizard's going to ask her to kill you."

"But what are we going to do? She'll have half of Oz storming armed behind her by the time she gets to Kiamo Ko!"

"Give the people what they want," I muttered as a thought struck me.

"What? Fiyero?"

"No…no…something you said once. About playing a role…"

"And look where it's gotten me. What are you thinking?"

"We fake your death."


	36. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

_Elphaba: _

I waited for my killers. How funny language is, that we possess those who would take our lives. We control them in speech where we cannot in reality.

But I was merely acting philosophical, since I knew that I was not going to die. At least, not that night, and not at the hands of the ragtag group coming for me.

Addie kept staring at me, suspicious of my outward calm. But inside, I was seething with emotion. _Fiyero is coming, Fiyero is coming, Fiyero is coming! _He had found a Crow that I once knew, who was willing to fly messages between us. Once night came, I slipped away myself on my broom and slept at his side, leaving him when sunlight began to make its way into his makeshift shelter. Days, I spent holed up in my library, Cassie rolling around and attempting to sit up herself on the floor, searching for a spell to change Fiyero back. I had found several that I thought might work if clipped and combined into one, but of course we couldn't try until this whole ordeal was over. I worked late into the night, until I was sure his companions would be asleep, before I left, and soon I had memorized several key spells and discovered that some of my own creations worked as well.

But still, it was not the same. The second week, we had worked out all of the details of our plot and I was lying in his arms, half-asleep. But I knew I had to return to Kiamo Ko; sunlight seeped through the canopy of trees like a poison.

"You have to leave me now," Fiyero said softly, like always reading my thoughts, "so that tomorrow, we will be together forever."

I shot up to a sitting position.

"_Tomorrow?!_" I gasped, sounding perhaps more like Glinda than I ever had in my life. He nodded, grinning. I embraced his straw body fiercely, memorizing the still-familiar feel of him against me, and I vowed yet again that I would remedy this half-life to which I had condemned him. I felt him lean into my neck and inhale me.

"I love you," he whispered.

"So much it hurts," I responded, grasping him tighter before we finally pulled apart. Tears welled in my eyes, and I brushed them ferociously away.

"Soon," I said, half a question.

"Soon," he replied, a promise.

Hurriedly, I darted out of the clearing and took off without breaking stride, flying blind as tears filled my eyes.

_I have to let him go_, I told myself again, _so that I can have him back_.

…

The next night was the only one I was unable to see him, for he was coming then. It was pure physical and emotional agony. I lay alone in bed, clutching a pillow, my entire body on fire with the need for him. My abdomen ached with longing. I was more useless than the schoolgirl in love I had once been. I had never known such sweet and painful yearning. Every atom of me begged for him to hold me again.

Cassie was the only thing that kept me sane, she and my drive to find a cure for him. The next morning, waiting still for him to come, I found the perfect spell and euphoria coursed through me. I ran out of my study, eager and joyous, and I called out,

"Fiyero! Look-" before I remembered that he was gone.

_Come back to me, my love. My heart. My missing soul. Please, I am broken and lost and you are what holds me together. _

Then Addie called to me from her room; she had sighted them. Filled with anticipation, I dashed out to the courtyard to fill a bucket with water, which I dragged halfway up the stairs before running into Addie, who turned Cassie over to me. I took my daughter in my arms and headed off to put her safely in her room before the others arrived to murder me.

…

**Later **

_Dorothy: _

I tiptoed into another room silently, scared out of my wits but determined to be resolute. The Witch's back was to me, and when I couldn't stand the silence any longer I involuntarily made a small noise in my throat and immediately froze in terror.

The Witch whirled around, and two things hit me like a ton of bricks.

First, she was young. Really young. She looked like Evie O'Sullivan from back home, only just a little older, Evie, the girl who had left town to go to college, which everyone had made a huge production of, and they'd had that party for her where Jimmy Brooks tried to slip a frog down my dress and stole the ribbon off one of my braids. But the Witch, she was just a girl, really, and green, yes, but other than that she was pretty, too. She was staring at me really fiercely with hazel eyes like Evie and all the O'Sullivan kids had, and her eyebrows were lifted like Aunt Em's when she's about to yell at someone, which scared me a little. Her nose was sharply pointed, but the word I thought of was _noble_. Her mouth wasn't giving away any of her thoughts, and that scared me too.

But the other thing, the more shocking thing, was the baby in her arms.

She held it gently, lovingly, cradled against her. The baby was the same color as me, not green, and had big blue eyes, but I could still tell it was hers.

_She had a baby? _

She was a pretty young woman like Evie O'Sullivan, and she had a baby, and this was the monstrous evil I was supposed to destroy?

And then I realized where I'd seen blue eyes like that baby's before: _the Scarecrow_.


	37. Secrets

_Elphaba: _

_Oh, fuck, that _stupid _little girl_.

I set Cassie down in her crib and whirled to face the little brat.

"Where are your friends, then, you little murderer?" I asked her in a high-pitched hiss. Confusion evinced itself across her innocent features.

"But…but…but…the baby?" she managed finally.

_Was Cassie truly enough to convince her of my humanity? _I allowed myself a momentary fantasy of telling her all, this child whose plainspoken words and honest face made truthfulness nearly mandatory. _Nearly_.

_No. Even if she would believe me, Boq wouldn't, the others wouldn't. I can't put Cassie and Fiyero and Addie at risk. _

A thought came to me, of how to answer the girl's question. _I am not saying that. I cannot say that. My acting abilities do _not _go that far_.

I had no choice.

"Haven't you ever heard, little girl, that sacrifices and innocent blood are needed for spells?"

Cassie laughed from her crib. _At least she won't hate me for that. _

The girl's mouth dropped open.

"Isn't she…isn't she yours?"

"Hah!" _I hate myself. I hate this girl for making me do this_. "No! Her father crossed me, now he's straw and she's going to make me immortal!"

_Where do I get these things? I frighten myself sometimes, I really do. _

"She looks like you," the girl said stubbornly.

"Don't be ridiculous, you little idiot. I tire of your protestations." I stalked towards her and she stumbled back into the wall. "Now, _where are your friends_?"

"I-I don't know, a monkey, with wings, brought me here."

_Chistery, you blithering idiot_. If only he'd _talk, _and clarify his instructions, he'd have _known_ that he wasn't supposed to get her for another hour, and I wouldn't have had to be pretending I was going to kill my daughter, even if she did find it funny.

"Who sent you here?" _Three guesses and the first two don't count_.

"No one!" _Wrong._

"Try again."

"Glinda?"

"No, you stupid little girl, the Wizard, the Wizard of Oz! Didn't he send you here to kill me?"

"Well…to, to get your broom."

_Asshole. Can't even let a broom out of his grasp, can he? _

"Well, it's not going to happen!" I declared. _He's not the only one who can be ridiculously stubborn_. "And since you're here, you awful child, _give me my sister's shoes!_"

"I _can't_!" she moans. "They won't come off!" _Glinda!_

I grabbed her shoulders roughly and turned her about, propelling her forward out the door and shoving her into another room.

"You can stay in there until you _get _them off, then!" I growl at her, yanking the door shut behind me and shoving a chair underneath the handle. The things one learns in order to get a little privacy in college.

I went back into Cassie's room and scooped her out of her crib. She nuzzled her soft head into my neck and cooed happily.

I held her close for a moment, then lay her back down in her crib and tucked her in beneath the blankets. She reached up for me, a question in her blue eyes.

"No, my heart, not now. I have to go do something, but Daddy will make sure you're safe, and Aunt Addie." _They'd better_. "I'll be back soon. I promise." _And if anyone makes me break that promise, they will pay dearly for it_.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

I ran outside of Cassie's room, prepared to defend myself, only to find Glinda, flushed and out of breath, at the top of the stairs.

"Are you _trying _to kill me?" I demanded.

"They're coming for you."

"Really? I didn't notice despite screaming, newspaper headlines, and a fucking _farm brat in my house!_"

"Oh, Elphie, really, she's just a child."

"_She's not supposed to be here now!_" I responded.

"_Now_? What do you mean, Elphie?"

_Shit_.

"Nothing. I meant nothing. She's not supposed to be here at all." I remedied hastily. Glinda gave me a suspicious look.

"I can't get the shoes off!" Dorothy cried hysterically from behind the door.

"Elphaba!" cried Glinda. "Let her go! Is this still about Nessa's shoes?"

"Yes!" I lied.

Glinda shook her head at me. "No shoes are worth this, Elphie-"

"It's not just about the fucking shoes, Glinda!"

Understanding filled her eyes. "Oh, Elphaba. It won't change what your father thought. But what your father thought doesn't matter-"

"He wasn't my father!"

"What?"

"He wasn't my father. The Wizard is."

"Oh, Elphaba. I'm sorry."

"Yes…" I brushed tears away from my eyes. _I want to tell her I'm not going to die. I can't. I have to…somehow…_

"Glinda," I said urgently. "No matter what you hear, I will be all right. I will."

"Elphie, what…?"

"Just listen. I will be. I promise. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but…"

"Good. Now go. Go! You can't stay here, they'll find you."

She opened her mouth as if to protest, but one glance at my face told her she had lost. She leapt forward suddenly and clasped me in a rib-crushing hug.

"Goodbye, Elphie," she murmured.

"Goodbye, Glinda." She released me and slipped into the shadows, and I dashed upstairs to write and conceal a note somewhere that only she would find it.


	38. Believing

The girl stuck out her chin and tried to look defiant. She failed miserably and looked so pitiable as to be nearly laughable, but even in my façade, I couldn't find it in me to laugh. Actually, it was hard to find it in me to do much of anything- what I really wanted was a nice hot bath and a long sleep beside Fiyero, with Cassie between us, but I wasn't going to get either until I'd seen this through. So I summoned up all my strength and returned her meager glare with one that could turn life to stone.

"I still think you're lying about- about the baby," she said, her voice shaking.

"I still do not think that you are in any position to question me, as your blood would do as well as hers!"

She cowered in a corner, then tried to redeem her dignity. "I don't-"

"_Silence!_" I bellowed. "For _Oz's _sake, I can't even hear myself think!"

"Stop yelling at me," she cried.

"Stop _whining _at me!"

She stopped, miraculously, and gave me an annoyingly keen brown-eyed stare.

"What's your name?"

"Didn't you grow up on a farm?"

"What does that have to do with your name?"

"_Didn't anyone ever tell you not to name the animals you're going to slaughter_?"

She gaped. "Wha-what?"

"_Stop _making this _difficult_!" She drew back in shock, eyes wide. I pressed on. "You don't need to save me. You can't, little girl, it's a ridiculous and arrogant idea. For _God's _sake, would you just _get it over with and kill me_?!"

She blinked.

"I-I-"

I waved a hand dismissively.

"Just get the bloody shoes off then."

…

The cover of darkness, my embrace. I slipped once again out the window and over the parapets, looping around the tower and over into the forest a quarter mile southeast of the ravine where I knew Fiyero, Boq, and the Lion were camped out, searching for entry into Kiamo Ko. Flying low, I covered most of the quarter mile before their campsite came into sight and I hid the broom, slipping into a familiar grove of trees and Fiyero's arms.

"Oh, thank God," I whispered.

"Who's with Cassie?"

"Addie, of course; she's going to spoil that girl horribly."

Fiyero laughed and kissed me.

"I honestly can't stay in that castle with that girl anymore."

"What did she say to you, Fae?"

"She-she doesn't believe me," I said, half-laughing myself. "She thinks I'm good. She wants to save me. Maybe not anymore, after what I said to her, but she did." I put my head in my hands. "I don't _understand _anymore, Fiyero."

"Oh, Fae," he said, "none of us ever have."

…

I flew nearly through the night.

Once again, I had unfinished business in the Emerald City.


	39. Just Like You

In through the window again, and there he was. Sitting in his chair, head in his hands. He looked up when I flew in.

"Think you'd have learned to close that window by now," I said. He waved his hand.

"You'd kick it in."

"True." I walked up to his desk, planted my hands on the smooth mahogany surface. He met my eyes with surprise.

"Why are you here, Elphaba?"

"Why?" I asked.

"What?"

"Why did you send her, that girl?"

He massaged his temples and leaned back.

"She trusted me. With her fate."

"Oh, how dreadfully shocking. _Everyone _trusts _you_."

"Why are you here?"  
"Answer me," I demanded. "Why did you send her?"

"She believes in me!" he shouted, standing. "She thinks I can send her home, and I can't. And I can't…"

"You don't want to break her heart, so you send her to me hoping she'll _die _along the way?"

"No, no, not die…"

"You don't want this stranger disillusioned with you, but you wanted to use me?"

"What?"

"I was _just like her_." _Maybe not as whiny_. "I _believed _in you. You were my one hope to find my own home- to belong, and you _used _me. You would have used me to help you subjugate, to help you commit genocide, and you were doing it without a second thought, without a twitch. You _sociopath_. And I said no, so this is what you did. You made me evil," I spat heatedly.

"Elphaba, please," he said, almost begging.

"You are _pathetic_. You're _disgusting_."

"_I was just like you, too_."

"YOU are _nothing _like me!"

"But I was, Elphaba." The sickening, begging look on his face is making me ill. How could such…groveling…come from someone who had ever been anything like me?

He took a deep breath. "Where I come from, Elphaba, is a country of many peoples, from many other countries. And the people of the country I came from are- disliked- in this new country. Do you follow?"

"You mean like the Animals?" I asked sweetly. He sighed deeply.

"Yes. Like…like that," he admitted.

"If you _understood_ me," I growled, "If you understood what it was like to be the outcast, how could you? How could you do this?"

"I did it," he responded tightly, "so that I would _never _feel that way _again_!"

"So you destroyed others? You blamed them, cursed them, cast them out in your place?" I shook my head violently. "I hate you," I told him, "and I always will."

…

Back to the castle. Morning had begun to creep into the sky by the time I slipped into my bedroom, greeted the concealed Addie and Cassie.

Fiyero had told me that the others would be arriving today, he and Boq and the Lion, who hadn't revealed any other name.

This would require delicate timing, I knew, so that neither Boq, the Lion, nor the angry mob I knew would arrive soon after actually got hold of me. Water was hardly the sole weapon they would use, and I doubted they would kill me in the place of my request, anyway. So. The girl had to "escape," then Fiyero's sentries had to chase them to the tower room. Fiyero had to maneuver himself close enough to me so that when I waved the torch at him, conjured the illusion of fire on his arm, the conveniently placed bucket of water Dorothy would be sure to throw would hit me, too. I would spring the latch of the trapdoor with my heel, scream to cover the sound of it opening, and down I would go, and the moment I was through, I would magically slam the trapdoor shut again.

The plan was entirely dependent upon each and every detail; it gambled on Boq keeping calm and not lunging like an idiot across the room to strangle me, because that would not turn out well at all.

But first, the girl.

"Have you gotten the shoes off, then, you brat?" I enquired rudely, shoving open the door to the bedchamber in which I had locked her.

"N-n-no," she blubbered, obviously afraid, "I can't do it, and oh, I would if I could! But please, please, can I go home now?" she begged.

"Not until you give me those shoes!" I shrieked madly. She burst into unabashed sobs.

"I c-c-can't!"

"Well, then, you won't be going home," I declared, cackling, and pulled her to her feet. I dragged her from the room, ignoring her protestations, and shoved her into my study, now bare of my copied spells from the Grimmerie and of my favorite books, all of which were stored in the chamber below the trapdoor. I flipped over an hourglass so that the red sand inside began to pour downwards.

Her stupid dog yapped from out in the hallway; I ignored him.

"Do you see that?" I demanded, pointing at the glass. "That's how much longer you've got to be alive! And it isn't long, my pretty!" I cackled again. It had turned out to be surprisingly amusing. "It isn't long! I can't wait forever to get those shoes!"

I stalked out and slammed the door loudly. The dog growled indignantly at me.

"Oh, please," I scoffed at him. "Aren't dogs supposed to be able to sense whether someone is really evil or not? Now stop yapping at me. I said, stop. Make yourself useful, you foul thing, and find F- the Scarecrow and the others. _Go!_"

Shockingly, the little dog obeyed and scuttled away.

I fell against the wall and drew in a deep breath. It had to end soon, I reflected. I couldn't keep this up for much longer.


	40. The Circle

**A/N: Well. I think this may be it, folks. There'll definitely be an epilogue, and probably a sequel. (Well there's that note lying around, and Cassie, and Dorothy's suspicions…) **

They were coming, and all the planning and forethought in the world couldn't have prevented the release of adrenaline, the free-floating sensation in my stomach, the panic flooding my senses until I could dull it, control it, and do what had to be done.

It was a blur, though; instinct, movement without thought. I could hear the sentries running, and Fiyero guiding them, and Boq's clanking, the Lion's fearful mewls and Dorothy's occasional, excited interjections. I could also hear the larger, more frightening crowd banging at the door with a battering ram below.

I saw them again when they were in the main hall and I was above them, on a balcony of sorts. I cried something nonsensical and dashed the red hourglass against the floor; the signal. The sentries darted quickly out of the way as Fiyero yanked downwards and sent a huge chandelier hurtling towards the floor, sending everyone into a panic and also effectively blocking at least one route for the mob, if they did get in. Down and around another corner; I heard Fiyero ushering them through a labyrinthine way to arrive at the tower room, the catalyst; the setting for my dramatic exit.

And they were running, the guards were chasing them-

"_NO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, and then I ran. I ran through hallways upon hallways and up staircases. I heard Glinda behind me, but I couldn't stop. I kept going until I found myself in the attic. Glinda threw herself in after me and I slammed the door…_

And everything twisted, everything swirled, Dorothy and I, running, running, running from things we didn't quite understand and things we understood too well, running to and from each other, ourselves, powers reaching down to control us, running in circles, forever.

Until finally. She was trapped. But she wouldn't fly and neither would I, my only escape this time would be death. False death. But death.

I spewed out some more nonsense, menacing nonsense, waving a torch at them threateningly.

"How about a little _fire_, Scarecrow?" My voice was high, unnatural, my thoughts racing, head spinning, as the magical, false fire leapt from stick to straw arm and Fiyero pretended terror.

"No- no-no," he cried as if pleading, blue eyes locked on mine as he, pretending to dance in pain and terror, positioned himself in front of me. "Help! I'm burning! Help!"

Dorothy spotted the bucket of water, grabbed it, and tossed it over both of us in one fluid motion.

The moment of truth. I tipped the latch of the door with my bootheel and screamed as if my life depended on it. My life _did _depend on it. The water was cold; this was good, the scream wasn't entirely fake. Whatever went through my mind in that moment, as I levitated myself slowly downwards beneath the pillowing cover of my cape and overskirt, I said, in a stream of untruthful ramblings that would convince them that I was dead, wicked, and insane.

The second my feet touched the ground, I reached up and latched the trapdoor, still hidden beneath my outer garments, shut.

_Slam_.

And there was nothing but darkness and silence. Nothing at all.

_Fiyero_:

It was convincing, if you didn't think too hard about it, which I doubted Boq, Dorothy, or the Lion would do, and no one else would ever know the details. First of all, the water had barely splashed Elphaba's face, and wouldn't have been enough to do damage even if she _were _allergic. Second, if the water had touched her face first, then why would her feet melt before her face? But the others didn't question what they'd seen; it was enough that she was 'dead.' Chistery had scampered off, and my sentries were doing a great job of acting as if Elphaba had oppressed them. They'd always been whiners, and, like the rest of Oz, it seemed that they were only too ready to take a flying leap onto the Let's Blame the Green Girl bandwagon. They were _so _getting fired when I…well…I'd arrange it somehow.

I tuned back in to hear the sentries leader saying, "Yes, very happy. Now she won't be able to hit us with that broom."

_I never hit you with a broom, you lying twit! _

I could hear Elphaba's voice in my head, as clear as anything.

I stood motionless, just waiting for everyone to leave. Just waiting for it to be over. So that I could hold her, so that I could rage at the things they said about her instead of standing passively, smiling, as if I really were brainless.

…

We journeyed to the Emerald City, every passing minute increasing the nervous energy filling my body. One more minute that Elphaba was down there, alone, cold, hungry, scared. I tried hard to stay away from the others. Boq kept yelping cruel things about Elphaba to everyone, and with all the tension searching for an outlet to explode from built up inside me, I was petrified I'd punch him. No. Beat him, pulverize his tin torso into a flat sheet of foil. Kill him, if it was possible.

_Elphaba_:

There is no fire in Hell. No fire, no demons, no noise. Nothing. That is what hell is, if there is a hell. An otherworldly one, I mean. I know very well that there are many hells in this world, and that one of them lies below the stone floor of Kiamo Ko.

All consuming darkness. All-consuming silence. Finding my way to the wall by sliding my hands across slick, cold tiles until my fingernails hit hard resistance, then carefully maneuvering myself towards it, leaning my back against it, trying to sleep.

Sleep evades you when you need it most.

When he came at last, Fiyero told me it had been three days. It felt like eternity. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat- there was nothing for me to eat- I couldn't pace, the stones were too slippery and the room too dark, and I couldn't risk falling.

_Fiyero. Cassie. Addie. Where are you? _

I got no answer.

Magic evades you when you desire it most, too.

I slept eventually, in brief snatches, I suppose. I waited. Waiting is another hell, a mental hell, a hell of suspended animation in one's own mind. A hell of suspended knowledge.

I counted seconds until I forgot what increments minutes and hours came in. I whispered my own name every once in a while, and Fiyero, Glinda, Cassie, Addie, so that I didn't lose myself.

How ironic it would be, to come through all of this and be insane.

Maybe I already am insane; it would not surprise me.

A knock came at the trapdoor, it opened torturously slowly, and Fiyero's voice called to me hesitantly. I sprang up, bowling him over.

"Oh, Fiyero, thank Oz!"

"It's over, Fae," he said, leaning into my enthusiastic embrace, "they're gone, and they'll never bother us again." He gently wiped two stray tears from my eyes with his burlap finger.

Addie descended the stairs with Cassie, smiling widely.

"Mama!" the tiny girl crowed triumphantly, as if our reunion was her doing, "Dada!"

Fiyero and I exchanged looks and smiled, entwined our own arms, and reached out to pull our daughter into our embrace.


	41. Epilogue

**Yes, it's over! I'm so sad! I like the way this turned out though. It's rather short, but oh, well. **

Gone. Everyone gone.

The stone floors echoed as I crossed them one last time. The walls seemed to whisper reproach at me for my treachery, my abandonment.

But we couldn't stay here, it was too dangerous. The people would do just as well without a leader, after a time. Peoples always seem to. And they were no worse off than the rest of Oz, with the Wizard gone and Glinda stepping into shoes I knew she could fill, and fill wonderfully.

One day, maybe, she would find the note, written so tersely and signed so obliquely only she would understand it.

But she would rule, and she would bring peace and the goodness she was so accomplished at. And perhaps, she would find true love, since she had discovered what true friendship was.

And Addie would go where she had wanted to all these years, back to the City. She would set up her own doctor's practice, sexist critics be damned. I was immeasurably proud of her.

And I? Fiyero and I would travel to that meadow hidden in the depths of Gillikin's forest, beside the lake and waterfall that marked the second time we had kissed. I would magick us a house, and there Cassie would grow up, amid sun and flowers and fields. And there I would tell Fiyero what I had just myself discovered: Cassie would have a sister. I knew the unborn baby was a girl. Don't ask me how, I just did. A girl with raven hair and bright blue eyes. We would call her Grania.

And there, with only people I loved and who loved me, I would find true happiness, for the first time and forever.

…

_And that is what we did. Of course, Elphaba being Elphaba, she couldn't stay completely isolated. She arranged a sort of magical healing place for those Animals who had lost their speech and reasoning, sending them back into Oz whole and healthy after she had finished, and she was ready to hide and protect any that humans took angry, pointless action against. She wrote her story, our story, and she hid it in the house. She insisted that there would come a day when she would have the chance to give it to Glinda, directly or not. And, because she's Elphaba, I believe she will. She saved my life once and then changed me back into a man, and I've seen all the other things she can do. I believe that she can do anything she sets her mind to._

_Cassandra and Grania are brilliant girls, as keen as their mother, and one day, they will go to Shiz under assumed names. _

_I thought of what this would mean the other day, and I looked at Elphaba, and looked at the cranny where she had hidden the dozens of pages covered in her elegant cursive, and looked back from her to it again, and she turned and saw and laughed. _

_"Yes, Yero," she said. "That's how. They will go to see her. And Glinda will know them. How could she not?" _

_How could she not, indeed. It is true that Elphaba's best friend will recognize our girls the moment she sees them, and she will know the truth. And maybe, maybe, one day, we won't have to hide here anymore. _

_Not that I mind having Elphaba all to myself. _


End file.
